The Knightly Soldier 



wiBB 



vm. 



ByChaplain Trumbull 







Oass. 
Book^ ' ^ 



o o / 





^^^ & G^/C- - 



THE 



KNIGHTLY SOLDIER 



A BIOGRAPHY 



Major Henry Ward Camp 



BY 

CHAPLAIN H. CLAY TRUMBULL 



NEW AND REVISED EDITION 



PHILADELPHIA 

JOHN D. WATTLES, Publisher 






Copyright, 1865, 
By NICHOLS & NOYES. 



Copyright, 1892, 
By H. CLAY TRUMBULL. 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 



KADESH-BARNEA: Its Importance and Probable Site, with the 
Story of a Hunt for it; including Studies of the Route of the Exodus, 
and of the Southern Boundary of the Holy Land, i vol., large Svo. 
With maps and illustrations. $5.00. 

FRIENDSHIP THE MASTER PASSION; Or, The Nature and His- 
tory of Friendship, and its Place as a Force in the World. 1 vol., large 
8vo, in box. $3.00. 

YALE LECTURES ON THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL: The Sunday- 
school ; its Origin, Mission, Methods, and Auxiliaries. The Lyman 
Beecher Lectures before Yale Divinity School, for 188S. 1 vol., small 
8vo. $1.50. 

A MODEL SUPERINTENDENT: A Sketch of the Life, Character, 
and Methods of Work, of Henry P. Haven, of the International Les- 
son Committee. 1 vol., i2mo. With portrait. $1.00. 

TEACHING AND TEACHERS: Or, the Sunday-school Teacher's 
Teaching Work, and the Other Work of the Sunday-school Teacher. 
1 vol., i2mo. $1.00. 

HINTS ON CHILD-TRAINING. 1 vol., small wmo. $1.00. 

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE: A series of briel essays. Six vol- 
umes. Square i6mo. Each volume complete in itself. $2.50 the set, 
50 cents a volume. 

1. Ourselves and Others. 5. Character-Shaping and 

2. Aspirations and Influences. Character-Showing. 

3. Seeing and Being. 6. Duty- Knowing and 

4. Practical Paradoxes. Duty-Doing. 

THE BLOOD COVENANT : A Primitive Rite, and its Bearings on 
Scripture. 1 vol., 8vo. $2.00. (A new edition in preparation.) 



JOHN 1 D. WATTLES, Philadelphia, Pa. 



THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER 



TO THE PARENTS 

TO WHOSE FAITH AND FAITHFULNESS 

HENRY WARD CAMP 

OWED THE QUALITIES OF A "KNIGHTLY SOLDIER " 

THIS 

TRIBUTE TO HIS MEMORY 

IS DEDICATED 

BY HIS FRIEND 






dlSSS! 'PREFACE »""l|iJS 



"W 



This book was written while the war was still in 
progress. The inspiration, and the pressure, of active 
service in the field, were upon its writer, as he hastened 
to complete the life record of his friend. It was pub- 
lished, in Boston, in the spring of 1865 ; and it rapidly- 
passed from one edition to another, with a steady 
growth in public favor. 

The dissolution of the firm that originally published 
it, and the passing of its plates into other hands, caused 
its dropping out of print; and now for nearly a score 
of years it has not been obtainable by those who were 
familiar with its contents, although constantly called 
for by some of them. At last it is taken up by its 
author, and carefully revised for a new edition, with- 
out, however, changing its chronological standpoint of 
writing. 

A peculiarity of this war biography is in its subject 
and its writer, and in the relation of the latter to the 
former. Major Camp was an exceptionally choice 
specimen of the best student soldier of the Union, in 
the great Civil War. His experience in service was 
long and varied; and he wrote of its every phase with 

vii 



Vlll PREFACE. 

graphic power. His biographer was his intimate 
friend, and his close companion in camp, in field, and 
in prison. In these respects the book is unique among 
the personal stories of the war. So clearly was this 
recognized by the reading public generally, that its 
sixth edition appeared with the special endorsement of 
the governors of all the New England states, and of 
fifteen prominent college presidents, East and West. 
And the Rev. Dr. Bushnell then expressed his con- 
viction that the book would be even better known fifty 
years from then than at that time; because, as the war 
receded into the past, only its best representative books 
would survive the mass of less important war literature. 
It is in view of this record of its earlier success that 
the book is again given to the public, in response to 
repeated requests for its reappearance. 

One thing which was emphasized in its first Pref- 
ace may properly receive fresh mention here. The 
relations between the author and the subject of this 
volume were of peculiar and rarest intimacy. The 
union of the two, during the years chiefly considered 
in this record, approached complete oneness. To 
have left out all the references to Henry Camp's friend, 
of whom almost every page in his later writings made 
mention, would have been impossible without destroy- 
ing the fulness and coherence of the narrative, and 
distorting the picture of army life to the eyes of those 
familiar with the seldom equaled attachment of the 
friends to each other. Very much of this nature was 



PREFACE. 



IX 



stricken from the record, — all, indeed, that could be 
with seeming propriety. It is hoped that what re- 
mains will be ascribed to the affectionate partiality 
of him who has fallen, and not to any want of good 
taste on the part of one who was loved by and who 
mourns him. 



Philadelphia, 

Decoration Day, 1892. 





CHAPTER I. 

CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOL-DAYS. 

Personal Character in the American Civil War. — An Illus- 
trative Story. — A Representative Student Soldier. — 
Henry Camp's Parentage and Boyhood. — Inherited 
Qualities. — Sensitive Conscience. — Child Sermons. — 
Beginnings in Sunday-school. — High -school Expe- 
riences. — His Teacher's Estimate. — A Year at Home. — 
Enters Yale. — Confesses Christ. — Dr. Bushnell's Trib- 
ute. — The Man-soul in the Child. — Hero-life and Angel- 
life. — A High Future still 



CHAPTER II. 



COLLEGE LIFE. 

College Athletics. — Boating. — University Races of 1859. — 
Reflex Influence of a Hard Struggle. — A Ring Won 
and Worn. — Yale and Harvard Oarsmen in the Army. 
— Chaplain Twichell's Sketch of the Worcester Re- 
gatta. — "A Perfect Man." — Severe Training. — Sol- 
dierly Ways. — First Day's Race. — Defeat. — Comfort 
from "No. 3." — Contagious Courage. — Second Day's 
Race. — Victory . — Rej oicings . — Sequel . — Testimony of 
College Comrades. — An Unbelieving Classmate Led to 

xi 



XU CONTENTS. 



Christ. — Christian Fidelity Recognized. — Character- 
istics and Conduct. — A Kingly Heart. — A Blessed 
Memory 



CHAPTER III. 

TEACHER, LAW STUDENT, SOLDIER. 

Teaching at East Hartford. — Rising War-clouds. — Voting 
Intelligently. — Standing for Principle. — Studying Law. 
— Denying Self in not Enlisting. — Joining the City 
Guard. — Funeral of General Lyon. — Commissioned in 
the Tenth Regiment. — Farewell Speech at his Sunday- 
school. — Joying in Prospect of Service. — Joins his Com- 
mand at Annapolis. — Open-air Prayer-meeting. — Camp 
Varieties. — A Christmas Gift. — Foster's Brigade. — The 
Burnside Expedition. — Life on a Transport. — Purity in 
all Things. — Trials on the " Swash." — A Pull for Life. — 
A Fair Face and a Brave Heart 34 



CHAPTER IV. 

ROANOKE AND NEW-BERNE. 

Advance up Pamlico Sound. — Generals Worth Seeing. — 
The Night before the Fight. — Personal Feelings. — Bat- 
tle of Roanoke Island. — The First Wounded. — On 
Special Duty. — Crying a Cry Out. — Victory and its 
Cost. — Again on Transports. — Kerosene Water. — En- 
ergetic Cockroaches. — Courage in Dark Days. — Patri- 
otism and Chivalry. — Sunset at Sea. — Poetic Musing. 
— Landing and Bivouacking. — The Battle of New- 
Berne. — Sensations under Fire. — Another Victory. — 
The City Entered. — Guard Duty. — Sympathy with En- 
listed Men. — Picket-life. — An Alarm. — Bold Scouting. 



CONTENTS. Xlll 

Contentment in Action. — Love of Home. — Volunteering 
for Special Service. — Living to a Purpose. — Compara- 
tive Casualties, East and West 47 



CHAPTER V. 

CAMP LIFE AND CAMPAIGNING. 

Incidents among the Contrabands. — Fugitives at the Picket- 
line. — "Dey Sell Ebry One." — Inside View of Slavery. 
— Praying for Liberty. — Fighting for Government. — 
Religious Counsel to a Classmate. — Life in Hospital. — 
Rumors of a Move. — New Brigade. — Captain Vicars's 
Memoir. — Longings for a Friend. — Promotion. — The 
Adjutant's First "Consolidated." — A New Chaplain. — 
The Two Friends. — Forty-fourth Massachusetts. — Tar- 
borough Scout. — Evening Skirmish at Little Creek. — 
Halt atWilliamston. — Song from the Jack Tars. — Patri- 
otism Thawed Out. — Foraging. — Home Relics Protect- 
ed. — A Southern Swamp. — John Brown Chorus. — Way- 
side Prayer. — First Visit Home. — Goldsborough Raid. 
— A New Disappointment. — Fredericksburg Failure . 74 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE FIRST CHARLESTON EXPEDITION. 

New Expedition. — Sail to Port Royal. — Department of the 
South. — Camp at St. Helena. — Battalion Drill. — Sun- 
day-school Work. — Oriental Scenery. — "The Twins." 
— Wine and Cards. — Seabrook Island. — A Thrilling 
Advance. — An Evening Skirmish. — Camping in the 
Rain. — Scouting. — First Attack on Charleston. — Chaf- 
ing at Inaction. — Outpost Life. — Mammoth Mosquitoes. 
— Prayer-meeting in the Woods. — Another Separation. 



XIV CONTENTS. 

— Lack of Oxygen. — Work for Christ. — College Mates. 
— Excursions. — Beauties of the Seabrook Place. — An 
Exciting Reconnoissance. — Again under Fire. — Dodg- 
ing Bullets. — Artillery Duel. — Enjoyable Excitement 
of Danger. — Commander Rodgers. — Court-martial 
Service 102 



CHAPTER VII. 

JAMES ISLAND AND FORT WAGNER. 

A New Campaign. — Chowder-party. — Orders for a Move. — 
Prayer -meeting on Shipboard. — Landing at James 
Island. — Watching Distant Battle. — An Evening Ad- 
vance. — Bewilderment on Picket. — More Mosquitoes. 
— Thoughtful Tenderness. — Second Battle of James 
Island. — Attack on the Pawnee. — Taking to the Woods. 
— Captain Rockwell's Battery. — Colonel Shaw's (Fifty- 
fourth Massachusetts) Regiment. — To Morris Island. — 
Grand Bombardment. — Assault on Wagner. — Night 
Battle Scene. — General Gillmore. — Stopping Strag- 
glers. — A Wail of Agony. — Defeat. — The Morning after 
Battle. — Flag of Truce. — Unfair Capture. — Prisoners. — 
Fort Sumter. — Charleston Jail 127 



CHAPTER VIII. 

PRISON LIFE AND ESCAPE. 

Prison Sensations. — The Friends Separated. — Gloomy Fore- 
bodings. — From Charleston to Columbia. — Affectionate 
Letter. — Reunion in Jail. — Prison Occupations. — " De 
Mates." — Thought Ruled Out. — The Chaplain Re- 
leased. — Sabbath Evening Reflections. — Columbia and 
Hartford. — Longings for Liberty. — Plan of Escape. — 



CONTENTS. XV 

Outfit. — Parched Corn. — Lay-figures. — Moments of 
Waiting. — Captain Chamberlain. — Ivanhoe in the 
Kitchen. — Corporal "Bull Head." — Captain Senn. — 
Nervous Work.— Out and Off.— Joy in Freedom- 
Trestle -walking. — Refreshing Sleep. — Fear of Detec- 
tion. — A Long Way Round. — Rain and Darkness. — 
Spectral Ox-team.— Blind Guide-posts.— A Wet Lodg- 
ing. — The Lazy Farmer. — Kindness to Animals. — Fire 
on the Hillside.— Freshet.— A Lost Day.— Terror to 
Small Boys. — A December Bath.— Cheerless Waken- 
ings. — Sabbath of Hope. — An Unwelcome Attendant. — 
Discovered.— Prisoners Once More.— Child's Opinion 
of Yankees.— Politics. — Soldiers' Graves. — A Well- 
laden Table well Cleared.— Gathering Broom-straw — 
Soft Pillow.— Tied to the Saddle.— Slip 'twixt Cup and 
Lip. — Chesterville Jail.— Yankee Menagerie. — A New 
Jailer. — Attempted Conversion. — Worth of a Good 
Mother.— Whittling. — Lost Brother. — Pepper Wash 
after a Flogging. — Genuine Rebels. — Again in Colum- 
bia. — Close Confinement. — Satisfaction in Effort. — Box 
from Home. — Grateful Acknowledgments ... 149 

CHAPTER IX. 

LIBBY PRISON, CAMP PAROLE, HOME. 

The Regiment in Florida.— Fears lest it should Fight.— No 
Rest in Prison.— Exchange Rumors— Egg-gatherers of 
the Orkneys. — New Escape Plans. — Tunneling. — Dis- 
covery. — Removal to Richmond. — Ride through 
Rebeldom— A Night at Petersburg.— Three Hundred 
Dollars for a Hack.— Life at the Libby.— Baked Mice. 
— Amateur Cooking. — Opening Boxes. — Dead-lights. 
— " Boat Up ! "—Reading the Exchange List. — Hamp, 
or Camp.— Sensations of Liberty.— Stewart Nos. 1 and 2. 



XVI CONTENTS. 

— Leaving the Libby. — Sick Privates. — The Old Flag. 
— The Regiment Moves Northward. — Meeting of the 
Friends. — A Week at Annapolis. — Privileges of Free- 
dom. — The Tenth at the Front. — Camp at Home. — 
Unselfish Anxiety 197 



CHAPTER X. 

CAMPAIGNING WITH THE ARMY OF THE JAMES. 

Paroled Prisoners Exchanged. — A Hasty Leave. — Work of 
the Regiment. — The Friends Reunited. — Ride to the 
Front. — Evidences of Disaster. — Search for a Corps. — 
Glad Greetings in Battle. — Covering a Retreat. — Flying 
Artillery. — Calculating an Aim. — A Long Campaign. — 
A Good Correspondent. — Love of Home. — From Pray- 
ing to Fighting. — Picket Skirmish. — A Night of Peril. — 
Explosive Bullets. — Volleys Preferred to Snapshoot- 
ing. — Bermuda Hundred Works. — Major Trumbull's 
Battery. — Dread of Inaction. — Sounds from Cold Har- 
bor. — Picket-duty. — Danger on the Vedette Line. — 
Sociable Pickets. — Night Evacuation. — Listening for 
Life. — Exciting Advance. — Capture of Prisoners. — 
Howlett's Redoubt. — Fired at by Friends. — The White 
Flag. — Another Retreat Covered. — Letter-writing under 
Difficulties. — Severe Shelling. — Moment of Expecta- 
tion. — Attack Repulsed. — Rare Descriptive Powers 



CHAPTER XI. 

NORTH OF THE JAMES. 

Crossing the James. — Establishing Pickets by Night. — Co- 
lumbia Acquaintances. — A Hot Breakfast. — Hair- 
breadth Escapes.— Torrid Days. — Stormy Nights. — Nar- 



CONTENTS. XV11 

row Escape. — Uniform Cheerfulness. — Strawberry 
Plains. — In Reserve. — Dangers of the Rear. — Exposed 
Picket-line. — Anxious Night. — Busy Morning. — Second 
Corps Advance. — A Check. — The Straw-hat Hero. — 
Successful Flanking. — Indian Warfare. — Capture of a 
Deserter. — A Military Execution. — Forward Move- 
ment. — A Week's Hard Fighting. — Lost in the Woods. 
—Brandishing Watermelon. — Falling Back. — Attacked 
while Retiring. — Staying a Panic. — Casualties in the 
Tenth. — Night March and Countermarch 239 

CHAPTER XII. 

IN THE PETERSBURG TRENCHES. 

Colonel Plaisted again in Command. — Move from Deep 
Bottom. — Night-marching. — At the Appomattox Pon- 
toon. — A Rainy Bivouac. — Petersburg in Sight. — De- 
serted Negro-camp. — Burrowing for Quarters. — Danger- 
ous Dining-place. — Mortar-shelling by Night. — Deadly 
Fascination. — Weeks of Peril. — Sharpshooting in the 
Trenches. — Courageous Coffee-bearer. — A Narrow Es- 
cape. — Ricochet Shot. — Presence of Death. — Incidents 
of Picketing. — Wounded Vedette. — Sociability of Ene- 
mies. — More Sharpshooting. — A Miss as Good as a 
Mile. — Rejoicing over Atlanta. — Shotted Salutes. — Rail- 
road Target. — Longings for Rest. — Promotion. — With- 
drawal from Trenches. — Halt at the Rear 271 

CHAPTER XIII. 

LIFE AND DEATH BEFORE RICHMOND. 

From Petersburg to Deep Bottom. — Tedious March. — 
Gloomy Day-dawn. — Battle of New Market Heights. — 
General Terry's Approach to Richmond. — Days of Ac- 



11 CONTENTS. 

tivity and Privation. — Laurel Hill Skirmish. — Happy- 
Prisoner. — Frightened Women. — Captured Unionist. — 
The Treasured Flag. — Expired Enlistments. — Flag of 
Truce. — Wayside Prayer-meeting. — A Morning Attack. 
— Signs of Retreat. — General Kautz's Flank Turned. — 
Crash of Battle. — The Wounded Skirmisher. — Flying 
Infantry. — Flanked but not Frightened. — Victory Won. 
— Even Terms. — Seen through the Clouds. — New 
Movement. — Out and in Again.- — Last Night of Life. — 
The Death - morning. — Darby town Road. — Brilliant 
Scene. — Battle Opening. — Preparing for an Assault. — 
Thanking God in Peril. — " Good-by." — Deadly Race. — 
The Final Charge. — "I do Believe." — The Death-shot. 
— Last Look at the Flag. — Left on the Field. — Flag of 
Truce. — Recovery of Body. — Generous Enemy . . . 286 



CHAPTER XIV. 

MEMORIAL TRIBUTES. 

Sad Journey Homeward. — Funeral Services. — Official Testi- 
mony of Colonel John L. Otis. — Tribute of General 
Joseph R. Hawley — of Mr. E. G. Holden — of Mr. 
Charles Dudley Warner — of his Law Instructor — of his 
Brigade Commander. — A Noble Record. — Its Glorious 
Close. — Yale Commemorative Celebration. — Dr. Bush- 
nell's Oration. — "Young Lycidas." — Enduring Record 
by Hartford Citizens. — A Matchless Knight. — Portrait 
in Yale's Alumni Hall 309 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Portrait of Major Henry W. Camp Frontispiece 

Full -Page Woodcuts. opposite 

PAGE 

Camp of Tenth Connecticut Regiment, at Annapolis. 

From pencil sketch by H. W. Camp 42 

Richland Jail, Columbia, S. C, from the Yard. From 

pencil sketch by H. W. Camp 161 

Officers' Quarters in Richland Jail. From pencil sketch 

by H. W. Camp 194 

Earthworks across Darbytown Road near Richmond, 

Va. From pencil sketch by H. Clay Trumbull . . . 300 

Illustrative Head and Tail Pieces. 

PAGE 

Badge of Ninth Army Corps 47 

Double-Turret Monitor 102 

Sea Face of Fort Wagner 127 

Charleston Jail H9 

Libby Prison >97 

Badges of Tenth and Eighteenth Army Corps 210 

Pontoon Bridge across the James River 239 

In the Petersburg Trenches 271 

Monument to Major Camp, in Cedar Hill Cemetery, Hart- 
ford, Conn 323 

xix 



-y^miM^m^- 







CHAPTER I. 




CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOL-DAYS. 

pT^EVER was there a great conflict in which 
personal character exhibited itself more 
nobly in heroic daring and in tireless 
endurance, than in the American Civil 
War of 1861 to 1865. The best men of 
the North and the South were in that 
conflict. Impelled by high principle they gave their 
whole selves to a life-and-death struggle in behalf of 
that which, as they saw it, was worth living and dying 
for. And for their living and dying their country and 
their race are the better. 

History makes prominent the personality and ser- 
vices of the great leaders in that struggle ; but history 
does not note the story of representative individuals 
out of the great host of those who never rose to high 
command, but who by their character and work made 
the great achievements of the greatest commanders a 
possibility. Yet it is only in the understanding of the 
personality and services of such men as these that the 



2 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

great conflict itself can be fully understood, or the 
forces which operated for its conclusion can be rightly- 
estimated. 

The young soldier whose story is here told can 
fairly be taken as a representative of the best class of 
Christian men of education and refinement who kept 
step to the music of the Union, in following the flag 
of their country through the vicissitudes of the Civil 
War, until the need or the possibility of their march- 
ing and fighting was at an end. Although only a 
subaltern until within a few weeks of his death, and 
at no time having a higher position than that of a 
regimental field-officer, he had an experience in cam- 
paigning and battles that transcended the service of 
veterans in the principal European wars of this genera- 
tion. His personality, as well as his service, was of 
exceptional note. From childhood he impressed those 
who knew him for his moral beauty, his intellectual 
power, and his commanding personal presence, " as a 
splendid specimen of a physical, intellectual, and Chris- 
tian man ; " and at his death his regimental com- 
mander affirmed that "the service never suffered a 
heavier loss in an officer of his grade," while the com- 
mander of his brigade said, "Our cause cannot boast 
a nobler martyr." 

Henry Ward Camp was born at Hartford, Connecti- 
cut, February 4, 1839. His father, the Rev. Henry B. 
Camp, was at that time a professor in the American 



INHERITED QUALITIES. 3 

Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb; having been, in the 
earlier years of his ministry, pastor of the Congrega- 
tional Church at North Branford, Connecticut. His 
mother, Cornelia L. Baldwin, was a woman of ex- 
ceptional vigor of mind and tenderness of heart ; while 
his father was of a peculiarly retiring disposition, 
although not wanting in strength of personal char- 
acter. From his parents young Camp inherited those 
qualities of mind and heart that showed themselves in 
his rare combination of gentle and unbending firmness, 
and of shrinking modesty coupled with moral fearless- 
ness, of almost feminine sweetness of spirit, and mas- 
culine courage and determination. And to the wise 
training and the Christian faithfulness of his parents 
he was indebted for the full development of these 
inherited traits in their most delightful symmetry. 

Unusually gentle and retiring, even for a child, he 
shunned the boisterous companionship of city boys, 
and clung to his home, contented with its quiet occu- 
pations, and satisfied in its enjoyments. He learned 
to read almost unaided, and from four years of age he 
found his chief enjoyment in books. His love of read- 
ing was so great, that, after he had devoured all the 
children's books in the house, he resorted to those far 
beyond his years. He gained an excellent knowledge 
of history before taking it up as a study, and was 
always fond of books of travel. Too close devotion 
to reading, with too little outdoor exercise, began to 
affect his head seriously ; and he was so troubled by 



4 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

somnambulism that, during his eighth year, he was 
sent to Durham, Connecticut, to spend some time with 
his grandfather on a farm, where books were entirely- 
forbidden him. This rest to his brain, with the exer- 
cise and other advantages of country life, quite re- 
established his health ; and, after a few months, he 
returned reinvigorated to his home. 

An early observed peculiarity of young Camp's 
character was the exquisite sensitiveness of his con- 
science, amounting almost to a morbid dread of trans- 
gression. He shrank from every appearance of evil, 
and was oppressed by a fear of doing wrong. When 
he was five years old, a sister was born to him. As 
he first looked at the baby treasure with childish joy 
and wonderment, a shade of thought came over his 
face, and he went alone from his mother's room. On 
his return his mother asked him where he had been. 
" I've been, mama," he said, " to pray to God that I 
may never hurt the soul of dear little sister." And 
this incident is in keeping with his whole course in 
boyhood. 

At six years of age he exercised himself in writing 
a little book of sermons, taking a text, and making on 
it brief comments as striking and original as the em- 
ployment was unique for a boy of his years. In look- 
ing over the manuscript, his good mother observed 
frequent blanks where the name of God should appear. 
Inquiring the reason of these omissions, Henry in- 
formed her that he had feared he was not feeling just 



BEGINNINGS IN SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 5 

right while he was writing, and, lest he should take 
the name of God in vain by using it then, he had left 
the blanks in its stead. The strictest letter of the 
Jewish law could scarcely exact more reverent use of 
the ineffable name of Jehovah than was demanded by 
the tender conscience of this pure-minded boy. 

This fear of transgressing induced habits of self- 
examination and introspection which gave the boy no 
little discomfort. His rigid scrutiny of motive and 
purpose, with his discriminating review of each out- 
ward act, revealed to him such imperfections of thought 
or deed that he sometimes suffered keenly from his 
merciless self-reproaches. His earliest Sunday-school 
teacher was Mrs. Roswell Brown, the veteran principal 
of the infant class in the Sunday-school of the Center 
Church in Hartford, of which Dr. Joel Hawes was then 
pastor. In one of his little notes to her, young Camp 
said, with his characteristic sensitiveness, " I am some- 
times afraid I shall love you better than I do my 
mother. I don't think I do, but I am afraid I shall." 
" Mrs. Brown," he said, one Sunday morning, as he 
took his place by her side, " I am afraid I did wrong 
last Sunday. While you were talking to us all, I wrote 
my sister Cornelia's name with my finger on the seat. 
I didn't think it was wrong then ; but I've thought it 
was, since, and I've wanted to tell you of it." No 
misdeed of his during four years' stay in that infant- 
class was greater than the one thus candidly confessed. 
That teacher says of him, with warmth, " I had nearly 



6 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

four hundred and fifty children under my care in that 
room, but never but one Henry Camp." 

Yet, in spite of his quickly reminding and often - 
accusing conscience, young Camp was of cheerful tem- 
perament, and he richly enjoyed life. His refined and 
always unselfish sensitiveness made him only more 
considerate of others, and he was the light of a happy 
home even while his chief enjoyment was found in the 
family circle. No laugh was more merry than his, 
and no one did more than he to provoke a merry and 
timely laugh. 

With the exception of a few weeks at the district 
school, he studied at home until he was ten years old. 
Then he entered the Hartford Public High School, 
which he attended for six years. It was there that he 
first mingled actively with his fellows. Although he 
did not seek to lead, he found himself ahead. His 
comrades looked up to him. In the recitation-room, 
the playground, and the gymnasium, he was a pattern. 
Loving outdoor sports and athletic exercises, he prac- 
ticed and strengthened his muscular powers until his 
form and figure were a type of his compacted and 
well-rounded intellectual development. 

"There was a charm about him even then, which 
attracted all who knew him," says Mr. S. M. Capron, 
one of his high-school teachers. " I never had a 
pupil who possessed a purer character, or more com- 
pletely won the respect, and even admiration, of his 
teachers. He despised everything mean, everything 



ENTERING COLLEGE. 



vulgar ; and his generosity and manliness in his inter- 
course with other boys made him a general favorite 
among them. He was remarkably truthful also, and 
this never from a fear of consequences, but with a 
spontaneity which showed that truth was at the founda- 
tion of his character. As a scholar he was very faith- 
ful, accurate, and prompt in his recitations; especially 
copious and rich in his choice of words; of superior 
talent as a writer. No one stood above him in his 
class; and he took some prizes, while in the school, 
for English composition and other exercises. But it 
was chiefly his uncommon nobleness of character 
which made him conspicuous then, as in later 

years." 

In the summer of 1855, Camp passed an examina- 
tion for admission to Yale as a Freshman. But as he 
was yet only sixteen, and had been so long in seldom 
intermitted study, his judicious parents strongly ad- 
vised his waiting another year before entering on his 
collegiate course. The disappointment to him was 
severe; yet he yielded gracefully, as always, to the 
judgment of his parents, and for a twelvemonth occu- 
pied himself in outdoor exercise, in attention to pencil- 
sketching, and in the study of French and German. 
He joined the Freshman Class of Yale in September, 
1856. Then commenced his life away from the home 
he had so dearly loved, and in the possession of which 
he had been so favored. Then, first, he was obliged 
to forgo the privilege of speaking in all freedom of 



8 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the experiences of each day to those whose sympathy 
and affection were not to be doubted. 

It was not long after he entered college, that he 
sought a new tie with his loved ones at home, in a 
public recognition of the tie that bound them all to a 
common Saviour, by making an open confession of 
his faith in that Saviour. It was during his spring 
vacation, in 1857, that he connected himself with the 
North Congregational Church, at Hartford, of which 
his parents were then members, under the pastorate 
of the eminent Dr. Horace Bushnell. 

That good pastor writes with enthusiasm of this 
young parishioner, as he knew him from childhood to 
the close of his life : 

" It was my privilege to know this young patriot 
and soldier from his childhood up. The freshly vigor- 
ous, wonderfully lustrous, unsoiled look he bore in 
his childhood, made it consciously a kind of pleasure 
to pass him, or catch the sight of his face in the street. 
I do not recall ever having had such an impression, 
or one so captivating for its moral beauty, from any 
other child. And it was just as great a satisfaction 
to see him grow as it was to see him. I used to watch 
the progress of his lengthening form as I passed him, 
saying inwardly still, 'Well, thank God, it is the beauti- 
ful childhood that is growing, and not he that is out- 
growing his childhood.' 

" The noble man-soul was evident enough in the 
child, and when it was bodied forth in his tall, mas- 



DR. BUSH NELLS TRIBUTE. O, 

sive, especially manly person, it was scarcely more so. 
Indeed, the real man of the child was never bodied 
forth, and never could be, without a history of many 
years, such as we fondly hoped for him, but shall 
never behold. He died, in fact, with his high, bright 
future shut up in him, — it will only come out among 
the angels of God; and, I doubt not, will make a 
really grand figure there. Seldom have they hailed 
the advent among them, I think, of a youth whose 
kinship, and peership and hero-life begun, they will 
more gladly acknowledge. Indeed, I have never been 
able to keep it out of my mind, since I first heard of 
his death, that there was some too great aptness in 
him for a place among these couriers and squadrons 
of glory. It seems to be a kind of extravagance to 
say this, but I know not how otherwise to describe 
real impressions. He was such a man as, going into 
a crowd of strangers, would not only attract general 
attention by his person, by his noble figure and the fine 
classic cut of his features, by the cool, clear beaming 
of his intelligence, by the visible repose of his justice, 
by a certain, almost superlative sweetness of modesty ; 
but there was, above all, an impression of intense 
purity in his looks, that is almost never seen among 
men, and which everybody must and would distinctly 
feel. 

" But I am only describing here what others felt as 
truly as I, and could describe, if they would, much 
better than I ; though, perhaps, the acquaintance I 



IO THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

had with Henry's interiorly personal character and 
struggles in the matter of religion may have prepared 
me to note more distinctly than some others would 
the signs outwardly appearing. He came to me a 
great many times, from his early childhood onward, 
to lay open his troubles, and obtain spiritual direction. 
My conviction, from the very first, was, that I had 
nothing to do with him but to put him in courage, 
and enable him to say, 'I believe.' I never saw him 
when I did not think he was a Christian, and I do not 
believe that he ever saw himself early enough to 
properly think otherwise. Still, he did think other- 
wise much longer than I wished. The difficulty was 
to get him away from the tyranny of his conscience. 
It was so delicate and stedfast and strong, that his 
faith could not get foothold to stand. I feared many 
times that he was going to be preyed upon all his life 
long by a morbid conscience. Still there was a manly 
force visible, even in his childhood; and I contrived, 
in what ways I could, to get that kindled by a free 
inspiration. To get him under impulse, afterwards, 
for the war, was not half as difficult, — all the less 
difficult that the point of my endeavor was already 
carried ; for, having now become the soldier of Christ, 
by a clear and conscious devotion, he had only to 
extend that soldiership for the kingdom of heaven's 
sake. 

"As far as he was concerned, the kingdom of 
heaven was not worsted when he fell ; but the loss to 



DISAPPOINTMENT AND HOPE. I I 

his country and his comrades in arms was certainly 
great, greater than most of us will know. Besides, it 
is a great and sore disappointment to us all, that we 
are cut off abruptly from that noble and high future 
we had begun to hope for him. Let us believe that 
he can have as high a future where he is, and resign 
him gladly to it ! " 



CHAPTER II. 



COLLEGE LIFE. 




/£>IS outdoor life, with its active exercise, in 
his year of waiting to enter college, had 
prepared young Camp for an active inter- 
est in college athletics, and his fine phy- 
sique and bounding health made him a 
man of mark in that sphere. Boating was his special 
delight, and in his Junior year he was a member of 
the University crew that represented Yale at the 
Worcester regatta, in July, 1859. 

That regatta was an era in his life, and its influence 
was important in shaping his whole future course. In 
it he first realized the keen enjoyment of exciting 
endeavor, and attained the satisfaction of accomplish- 
ing something, through the straining of every nerve 
in a contest with his fellows, while stayed by the con- 
sciousness that he held the honor of those whom he 
loved in his keeping. He gave himself up to the 
struggle, both in preparation and performance, with 
his whole heart and soul, and seemed to secure thereby 

a relish and a fitness for such work as that to which he 
12 



YALE AND HARVARD BOATING MEN. 1 3 

was subsequently called for his country. A ring made 
from the gold of the regatta prize, he wore to the last, 
— refusing to part with it, even at an extravagant price, 
when most pinched for the comforts of life in a 
Southern prison; and it was finally drawn from his 
finger by an enemy, when he lay in death on the field 
of his last battle. 

The Yale and the Harvard crews in the Worcester 
races of '59 were: 

Yale. Harvard. 

H. S. Johnson (stroke), C. Crowninshield (stroke). 

Charles T. Stanton, Jr. W. H. Forbes. 

Henry W. Camp. E. G. Abbott. 

Joseph H. Twichell. H. S. Russell. 

Charles H. Owen. J. H. Wales. 

Frederick H. Colton. J. H. Ellison (bow). 
Hezekiah Watkins (cockswain). 

It is a noteworthy fact, that every man of the Yale 
crew, and a majority of those from Harvard, were 
subsequently in the Union army. 

Of Johnson, Camp wrote, when he met him in North 
Carolina on the staff of General Ferry : " He is an 
aide, ranking as lieutenant, — very nice little position, 
— left the signal corps some time since to take it. 
Signaling, he didn't like at all, — no fighting, — slim 
business, — at it through the whole Peninsular cam- 
paign, and was heartily sick of it. At Fair Oaks, he 
volunteered on some general's staff, and went in — 
lively time — horse shot under him. That was more 
like it." Stanton, as captain in the Twenty-first Con- 



14 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

necticut Regiment, was wounded at Drewry's Bluff. 
He was subsequently commissioned lieutenant-colonel, 
but was mustered out in consequence of the severity 
of his wound. Owen, Camp's early playmate, school- 
fellow, and always attached friend, was in the First 
Connecticut Heavy Artillery, and later on the staff of 
General Robert O. Tyler, receiving at Cold Harbor a 
wound, the effects of which he must carry to his grave. 
The stalwart arms of Stanton and Owen were often 
admired by enthusiastic boatmen in the days of col- 
lege racing. The right arm of Stanton and the left 
of Owen dropped powerless by their sides in the same 
good service for their country. For three years, 
Twichell filled with rare usefulness and acceptance 
the chaplaincy of the Second Regiment in General 
Daniel E. Sickles's Excelsior Brigade, of New York. 
Colton, as an army surgeon, had Owen under his skil- 
ful charge at the Douglass Hospital, in Washington. 
Watkins fought nobly as colonel of the One Hundred 
and Forty-third New York Regiment. Crowninshield 
and Forbes are, at the writing of this, colonel and 
lieutenant-colonel of the Second Massachusetts Cav- 
alry, the former command of the lamented General 
Lowell. Abbott fell at Cedar Mountain, while Rus- 
sell, going out a captain in the Second Massachusetts 
Infantry, returned the colonel of a colored cavalry 
regiment. A noble record of noble men ! 

The story of the Worcester regatta, and of Henry 
Camp's part in it, can best be told in the words of 



twichell's story of the regatta. 15 

brave and hearty "Joe Twichell," who pulled an oar in 
the Yale boat, and who was, like Camp, a soldier of 
Christ and of country in the nation's life-struggle. 

" In looking back to Henry Camp, as I knew him in 
college, it is impossible not to recall his singular 
physical beauty. The memory of it harmonizes very 
pleasantly with the memory of his beautiful daily life. 
Each became the other so well, while they were joined, 
that, though now his body has gone to dust, I find, 
while musing on my friend, an unusual delight in con- 
tinuing to associate them. He furnishes a perfect 
example of the truth, ' Virtiis pulchrior c pulchro corpore 
veniens! His handsome face, his manly bearing, and 
his glorious strength, made that rare gentleness and 
goodness which won our love the more illustrious. I 
well remember, while in college, riding out one day 
with a classmate of his, and passing him, as, erect and 
light of foot, he strode lustily up a long hill, and the 
enthusiasm with which my comrade pronounced this 
eulogy, 'There's Henry Camp, a perfect man, who 
never did anything to hurt his body or his soul ! ' 
That was before I knew him well; for, as I have inti- 
mated, we were not in the same class : but what I 
heard and saw, made me so desirous of a better ac- 
quaintance, that when, in the summer of '59, our crew 
was made up for the college regatta, to take place at 
Worcester, and it fell out that he was assigned to duty 
in the boat, as No. 3, while I was No. 4, I was more 
than pleased. 



1 6 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

"The six weeks of training that followed, culminat- 
ing in the grand contest, witnessed by far the greater 
part of all our personal intercourse, for after that time 
our paths diverged. That was the last term of my 
senior year, and the end was not far off. We parted 
on Commencement Day ; and though I afterward heard 
from him, especially of the fame of his soldiership, and 
hoped to see him, we met again no more than once or 
twice. But, at the distance of five eventful years, the 
news of his death struck me with a sense of my be- 
reavement, so deep and painful, that, looking back to 
those six weeks, I could not realize that they were 
nearly all I had intimately shared with him. Nor am 
I alone in this : I know of others, whose private 
memories of Henry Camp, as limited as mine, stir in 
their hearts, at every thought of his grave, the true 
lament, 'Alas, my brother! ' 

"During the training season of which I speak, the 
crew had, of course, very much in common. We ate 
at the same table, and took our exercise at the same 
hours ; so passing considerable part of every day 
together, besides the time we sat at our oars. Our 
hopes and fears were one, our ardor burned in one 
flame; we used even to dream almost the same dreams. 
The coming regatta was our ever-present stimulus. 
To win, — there was nothing higher in the world. It 
quickens the pulse even now to remember how splendid 
success then appeared. 

"Camp gave himself up to the work in hand with 



TRAINING FOR THE RACE. I J 

that same enthusiasm of devotion that carried him to 
the forefront of battle on the day of his glorious death. 
He was always prompt, always making sport of dis- 
comforts, always taking upon himself more than his 
own share of the hard things. Severe training in mid- 
summer is something more than a pastime. It abounds 
in both tortures of the body, and exasperations of 
mind, as all boating men bear witness. Under them, 
not all of us, at all times, kept our patience; but Camp 
never lost his. Not a whit behind the best in spirit 
and in zeal, he maintained under all circumstances a 
serenity that seemed absolutely above the reach of 
disturbing causes. The long, early morning walk 
into the country, the merciless rigors of diet, the thirst 
but half slaked, the toil of the gymnasium, the weary 
miles down the Bay, under the cockswain's despotism, 
the return to childhood's bed-time, and other attendant 
afflictions, often outweighed the philosophy of all but 
No. 3. He remained tranquil, and diligently obeyed 
all the rules ; serving as a sort of balance-wheel among 
us, neutralizing our variableness, and making many a 
rough place smooth. He had a presence, — almost 
the happiest I ever saw, and a temper that betrayed 
no shady side. He carried all his grace with him 
everywhere, and had a way of shedding it on every 
minute of an hour, — no less on little matters than on 
great, — that gave his company an abiding charm, and 
his influence a constant working power; and so he 
went on working with all his might for the college, 



1 8 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

doing us good daily, gaining that skill and muscle 
which afterward enabled him to pull so brave an oar 
through the stormy waves of Hatteras. 

" He had soldierly ways about him then. Discipline 
was his delight, and coolness never deserted him. We 
were upset one day, in deep water, under a bridge; 
and, at first, each struck out for land, till Camp, re- 
maining in mid-stream, called us back to look after 
the boat, which was too frail a structure to be left to 
chance floating. That Hatteras exploit, when we 
heard of it, did not seem at all strange. It was just 
like him to volunteer, and still more like him to be 
the last man to give up what was undertaken. 

"At last the day came, — the day big with fate, 
dreaded, yet longed for. Noon of July 26 found us 
sitting in our good boat, 'Yale,' on the beautiful Lake 
Quinsigamond, near Worcester, ready, at the starting 
goal, for the signal to 'give way.' The waters of the 
lake glittered and dimpled under the summer sky, as 
if mocking our deep cares with levity. Each grasped 
his oar, and, though it was a vain attempt, tried to be 
calm. A mile and a half away up between the woody 
banks fluttered the white flag that marked the turning- 
goal. Beside us was the ' Harvard ' and her splendid 
crew, gentlemanly fellows, whom we had liked at 
sight. There was also in the line a boat from Brown 
University, with a son of Adoniram Judson at one of 
the oars. The grace of generosity presides most 
happily over those congresses of youth, and keeps out 



THE FIRST DAYS RACE. 1 9 

bitterness from their rivalries, — or did, at least, in our 
day. Many thousands of spectators clustered on 
either shore, among whom were hundreds of college 
men, all eager and emulous, but with no stirring of bad 
blood. But the bustle of the crowd did not reach us 
as we sat watching the slow preliminaries of the judges 
and umpire. We only heard the music of the bands, 
which then seemed a call to battle, — almost as much 
so as the terrible bugles that nearly all of us were 
destined yet to hear. At last the suspense was ended. 
The first signal gun sent its sharp echo to the neigh- 
boring hills, — 'Ready to give way!' Every oar 
quivered in its place. A second gun, whose echoes 
we did not hear, — ' Give way all ! ' — and we were off. 

" In twenty minutes, the first day's race was over. 
All the college-boating world knows we were beaten in 
it, and that, at evening, Harvard bore into Worcester, 
with songs and shouting, the colors that pertained 
to victory. We shook hands all round, — the two 
crews, — and tried to appear to take it easy on both 
sides, though it was not, of course, exactly in the same 
mood that we returned to our quarters, and our friends 
to theirs. But Yale was used to it, and so was Har- 
vard. It was the old thing over again : the Fortune 
that prospers oars was too coy to be propitiated by 
us. Yet we had hoped for a change : undoubtedly 
we had expected it. Then was Henry Camp a refresh- 
ment to us. He had done his best, he was disap- 
pointed ; but he radiated a quiet resignation that was 



20 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

contagious. It was a comfort to talk with No. 3 that 
night. 

"The next day there was to be another regatta 
given by the city of Worcester, open to all comers. 
The Harvard men had signified their willingness to 
try it again with us ; but we were not immediately of 
one mind, and did not jump at the offer. Worthy as 
our rivals were, it was not pleasant being beaten by 
them; nor was the desperate work of a three-mile 
race, at mid-day, in July, to be coveted for itself: yet 
it gave us and Alma Mater one more chance, and that 
was not lightly to be thrown away. Camp's counsel 
was unhesitating and spirited. He was for re-entering 
the lists from the first instant it was proposed; and so 
it came to pass, that we took heart of grace: and noon 
of the morrow found us again on the lake, grasping 
our oars and waiting the signal. 

"This time there was no boat against us but the 
' Harvard.' An accident early in the first race had 
disabled the representative of Brown, and she was 
withdrawn, not to appear again. The same fair multi- 
tude, shining in bright summer attire, was gathered to 
witness the scene. Signs of the previous day's event 
were not wanting. On land and water, the Harvard 
head was high, as was not unmeet; but our fellows 
among the crowd observed a modest demeanor, and 
we in the boat, were not disposed to vaunt ourselves. 
We hoped, however, to make, at least a closer affair of 
it than the other was. 



THE SECOND DAYS RACE. 21 

" Once more we were off with a mighty clamor from 
the shore, each boat struggling for the lead. 'Yale' 
won it. None but a boating man knows the glorious 
excitement — excitement without wildness — that then 
leaped through our arms into the oars. Henry Camp 
himself afterward said that his first battle did not sur- 
pass it. Everything went well with us, and we reached 
the mile-and-a-half goal four good lengths ahead; but 
the 'Harvard' made a splendid turn, and we darted 
away on the home stretch, almost bow and bow. The 
fortune of the day trembled in even balances : less 
than ten minutes would decide it. ' Pull ! ' cried our 
cockswain, as if for his life ; and we heard the Harvard 
stroke inspiring his fellows with brave words. Then 
came the, hot, momentous work, — the literal agony. 
Those twelve men will never forget it, though it is 
doubtful if any can or could recall it in detail, minute 
by minute, short as it was. There is an indistinctness 
about it in my memory at least; and the last half-mile 
is especially cloudy. It would not be easy to describe 
it. Most accounts of boat-races, like that in 'Tom 
Brown at Oxford,' are from the standpoint of a looker- 
on, rather than an actor. The real tragedy is in the 
boat. 

"The near neighborhood of the other contestant, 
not so much seen as felt ; the occasional sidewise 
gleam of red from the handkerchiefs the Harvard men 
wore about their heads ; the burning exhortations of 
the cockswain, gradually rising in pitch of intensity. 



22 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

and settling at last upon the formula, 'Pull, if you 
die /' the pain of continued utmost exertion ; the vari- 
ous mental phenomena, some of which were strange 
enough; and, as we neared the goal, the vociferous 
greetings of the first little groups of spectators, — a 
vague sound in the ears, we scarcely thought what it 
was, except a sweet token of the end at hand ; then, a 
little farther on, the cry of the great multitude, neutral- 
ized as a distraction by the cockswain's deepening pas- 
sion ; the order to quicken the stroke, the final ' spurt ; ' 
— all these remain indelible impressions of that frag- 
ment of an hour in 1859; but, like the impressions that 
survive a stormy dream, they are not orderly or clear. 
" I doubt if any one remembers the command to 
stop. For a minute or two, there was utter collapse. 
Each bowed upon his oar, with every sense suspended 
through exhaustion : but, thanks to the training, one 
after another revived, and sat upright, and blessed 
himself; for all knew, though rather confusedly, that 
we had done well in entering that race. To our looks 
of inquiry, the cockswain, whose thunder-bolts had 
suddenly dissolved in sunshine, made this sufficient 
reply, 'We've got 'em ! ' It had come at last ! Hurrah, 
hurrah for Yale ! We wanted the voice of ten thou- 
sand wherewith to vent our hearts, and the shore 
supplied it. We looked around : the ' Harvard ' was 
slowly making for the land. To us it was permitted 
by custom to go before the spectators, and receive 
their congratulations. As, with easy oar, we pulled 



THE JOY OF VICTORY. 23 

our proud boat along either border of the lake, the 
applause that rose in a great wave to meet us was 
probably the sweetest taste of glory our lives will have 
afforded. In our young eyes, nothing could be more 
magnificent than our victory ; and it seemed like an 
old Olympic triumph. 

"When we landed, the Cambridge crew, though 
their philosophy was much more grievously taxed 
than was ours the day before, gave us honest hands 
and made us handsome speeches, to which we properly 
responded, or at least wished we could. Altogether, 
they took defeat in such a manly way, that we felt 
very anxious to refrain from all victorious airs in their 
presence, and to conduct ourselves with the utmost 
magnanimity. 

"The telegraph soon sent the news home to Alma 
Mater, and that night there was jubilee in New Haven ; 
but all of us, save the cockswain, abode in Worcester 
till the next morning. Then the Harvard men went 
north, and the Yale men south, and fair Quinsigamond 
was vacant of college keels for another year. It was 
Commencement Day ; and, returning crowned, we were 
welcomed under the elms in a manner peculiar to col- 
legians : but from that hour our close alliance was 
broken. Two or three went down to put up the boat; 
but the six never sat together again. 

" It is pleasant now to see, that through those youth- 
ful rivalries, useful as they were in themselves, God 
was raising up strength for nobler work than we pro- 



24 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

posed or could imagine. As we stretched away at 

our practice down the Bay, we never thought of war, 

or battle, or the great service of liberty that would 

soon call for thews of hardy men. Looking back to 

those warm afternoons when we used to disembark for 

a respite, and sit upon the ruined wall of old Fort 

Hale, and wonder how it seemed in those early days 

when Yalensians were called out from college halls to 

fight in the field, I cannot realize that then and now 

are less than six years apart. 

"Strange things have happened since. The voice 

of the cockswain has been heard at the head of his 

regiment on many a bloody field. The stroke has 

followed the flag ever since the fall of Sumter, and 

came very near death on the Peninsula. The iron 

right arm of No. 2 is maimed for life by a shot through 

the elbow. No. 5 will likewise carry to his grave the 

weakness of a wound. But No. 3 fell, and lay dead. 

Can it be ? can it be ? This is strangest of all. Yet 

it is not, perhaps, altogether strange that a sacrifice so 

fair and so truly consecrated should prove acceptable 

to God, and be consumed. There is comfort for our 

grief. 

'Our Knights are dust; 

Their good swords rust; 

Their souls are with the saints, we trust.' " 

Yale College did much for Henry Camp, and he 
was never unmindful of the fact. He was graduated 



COLLEGE ESTIMATES. 25 

with high honors in July, i860, but he could never 
feel that his graduation severed his connection with 
his college home. He loved always to tell of, and to 
think over, his experiences there ; and he watched with 
hearty interest the subsequent career of his classmates. 
Most warmly he greeted any of these whom he en- 
countered in army service ; and, even while a prisoner 
within the enemy's lines, he acknowledged an existing 
bond between himself and each son of his Alma Mater 
seen there. Only a few months before his death he 
remarked that the only public sentiment to which he 
was ever keenly sensitive was that of college. His 
extreme modesty prevented his ever dreaming how 
highly he was esteemed, and how warmly he was be- 
loved, by his fellow-students. 

The valedictorian of his class writes of him : 

" I had profound respect and admiration for him as 
a classmate. He was frank, wise, clear and pure 
minded, changeless in friendship. We his classmates 
feel deeply the diminution of mental and moral power 
suffered in his loss. The sum total of the class is less 
by a vast amount. As a positive power, as a man, as 
a friend, we esteemed him highly. I almost envy you 
the task of delineating the character of one so pure, 
noble, and manly. It is a priceless remembrance, the 
friendship of such a man." 

Says another classmate : 

"A character so noble, a life so pure, a heart so 
warm with kind impulses, and a manner replete with 



26 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the gentle courtesies of friendship, could not fail to 
win the love and esteem of us all." 

Yet another, who knew him well, adds : 

"I dare say he had faults; but I never saw them. 
I know of nothing in his life I would correct." 

As showing the power of his Christian example 
during his college course, one who sat by his side in 
the chapel and at recitation gives this narration : 

"On entering college, I was wholly without hope 
and without God in the world. I was beyond the 
reach of any power except the power of Jesus. I do 
not know whether I believed the Bible or not. I did 
not hesitate to ridicule such parts of it as my inclina- 
tions, urged on by such a state, prompted. I could sit 
in a prayer-meeting in the revival of '58, when nearly 
all my classmates were giving testimony of the power 
of God to send hope and peace to despairing souls, 
wholly unmoved. I could even smile at the emotions 
there expressed. Camp was my companion through 
college more than any other member of the class. He 
was by my side at recitation and in the chapel during 
the entire four years. I saw in him a character and a 
life I had never seen before. By his life I was forced 
to admit that his profession was per se no libel on the 
Master in whose service he was. 

" I do not recollect what part of our college life it 
was when he first spoke to me on the subject of my 
soul's salvation. It was not, however, till after his up- 
right and godly life had forced from me the most pro- 



PERSONAL INFLUENCE. 2"] 

found respect for him and the Saviour to whom he 
prayed. He said very little ; but he said enough to 
lead me to think over my past life, and to cast a glance 
at the future. I shall never forget the impression that 
first conversation had upon my mind. It was not so 
much what he said, as the way he said it. He be- 
lieved he was setting forth God's truth, and spoke as 
if he knew it was so. I believed that he knew it was 
true, though unable to explain how he became con- 
scious of it. This I pondered, and felt that he had 
evidences that had been withheld from me. He spoke 
with me only a few times on this wise, but every time 
with telling effect. I could not help thinking of it ; 
and after we were parted, and I had lost his com- 
panionship, I made his thoughts the companions of 
my lonely hours. I began to love him more than 
ever, and with love for him grew the love of the same 
Lord whom he loved and served. The conflict to me 
was a severe one ; and how I longed to meet him, and 
converse with him ! 

"Passing through New Haven when first on his 
way to his regiment, he left on my table a line to this 
effect : — 

* Dear B. : 

Sorry to have missed seeing you. 

Good-by, God bless you ! 

Henry W. Camp.' 

"I would have given a fortune to have seen him for 
an hour ! I had not at that time revealed my feelings 



28 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

to any one, and felt that he alone was fit to receive 
them. I wrote to him, and his letters supplied in part 
the loss I felt. Not a day since we parted, I venture 
to say, has he not been in my mind. I cannot but 
feel that he was the instrument chosen of God to un- 
veil the darkness that shut out the light from my soul. 
I fear that, had I never known him, I had never known 
the love of God, nor welcomed the glad enjoyment of 
a Christian experience." 

His classmate E. G. Holden thus sums up the col- 
lege estimate of Camp : 

"Those who were members of the class which 
graduated at Yale College, in the year i860, can bear 
ample testimony to that earnest Christian manhood, 
that sincere and faithful performance of every duty, 
that quiet, simple, childlike assertion of purity of mind, 
that magnanimity and generosity, and that courtesy 
of manner, which made Henry Camp a hero at every 
period and every position of his life. 

"The influence which he exerted in the class by 
this moral force was most wonderful, and none the less 
so because he was totally unconscious of its existence. 
He wielded his scepter without displaying it, and 
(except that he knew on general principles that sin- 
cerity of purpose always asserts its prerogatives) with- 
out knowing that he held the scepter. He was not, 
at least until his Senior year, what is called a 'popular' 
man. While invariably and impulsively a gentleman, 



CHARACTER AND LIFE. 2g 

and demonstratively kind in his demeanor toward 
every person he had to do with, his intimacies were 
few. Not only were his natural sensitiveness and 
retiring disposition an obstacle to a free general ac- 
quaintance, but his intensity of feeling was doubtless 
gratified by concentrating his friendship on a few 
chosen companions. And yet without exertion, and 
by the unpretending grandeur of his character, he won 
not only the respect, but the profound love, of his 
classmates, to an extent of which he had no idea. 
His conscientiousness was never intrusive. No one 
dreamed of his being a paragon, any more than they 
dreamed of his being inconsistent, not with his pro- 
fessions (for he never made any), but with his former 
invariable practice. 'To know him once and under 
any circumstances,' says an intimate friend, 'was to 
know him always; for he was always the same.' 

" He was not a pretentious scholar. His recitations 
were not characterized by a flashing repetition of the 
text, perhaps not always by a quick perception of the 
meaning, but invariably by a quiet self-possession that 
was evidently founded on a thorough, profound, and 
solid comprehension of what he had been studying, 
whether it had been acquired by an intuitive knowl- 
edge, or by close and energetic application. Although 
occupying a fine position on the list of honors, he 
might have stood much higher had he not deliberately 
chosen partially to devote himself to other things 
which he deemed equally useful. Books outside of 



30 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the prescribed course of study, chess, the gymnasium, 
and boating, occupied a part of his time and attention. 
Into all these exercises he threw that same earnest, 
hearty, untiring energy which he gave to everything 
else. Whether in laying his plans for an inevitable 
checkmate upon his antagonist, or whether laboring at 
his oar after the hope of triumph had vanished, he 
displayed the same indomitable and persistent courage 
with which he performed every act in life as soon as 
he had determined that it was right in itself and a part 
of his duty. Possessing a splendid, athletic body, he 
seemed as much in earnest in developing it by physical 
exercises as in conning Greek or obeying a college 
law, and awakened by his heartiness the enthusiasm 
of those around him in gymnastic sports or the con- 
test of shell-boats. 

" Prominent among his traits was his absolute, un- 
qualified, and unmistakable hatred of everything mean. 
He could be silent under an act of injustice, of injury, 
even of insult, when he believed it to be the result of 
thoughtlessness or ignorance ; but his detestation of 
meanness begotten of deliberate malice or of littleness 
of soul was inexpressibly withering. ' I never saw him 
angry on any other account,' writes a classmate who 
knew him well : 'but a mean act would make his eyes 
flash fire; and his words on such occasions, though 
few, were emphatic' He seemed almost to have be- 
longed to an order of Christian knighthood whose 
mission might be to exterminate dastardly and pre- 



CONSCIENTIOUSNESS AND SINCERITY. 3 I 

meditated wickedness. Alas that his sword should 
have dropped so soon from his hand ! 

" His inflexible resolution always to act with a full 
understanding of his duty, preliminary to an equally 
inflexible determination to perform it, cannot perhaps 
be better illustrated than by his course relative to his 
acquiring the elective franchise, which occurred while 
he was in college. He carefully made the Constitu- 
tion of the United States a subject of close and re- 
flective study, not merely as an intellectual exercise, 
but for the purpose of becoming thoroughly acquainted 
with the nature of the instrument to which he was 
about to swear allegiance. One or two of its pro- 
visions were the source of protracted deliberation and 
discussion, until, in fact, his doubts were removed. 

"Of his Christian character in college, little can be 
said that is not true of it in every situation. His 
modesty did not obscure it ; but it did prevent any 
ostentatious display of it. A college friend on terms 
of closest intimacy writes as follows : ' Those who saw 
his heart in this respect will cherish the revelations 
made to them as something sacred. I know one who 
was brought to Christ, who, had it not been for him, 
for his Christian character as revealed in his conversa- 
tion, and for the sincerity and whole-heartedness of 
his trust in Christ, would not, as far as I can see, have 
ever been a Christian. Others I know who were in- 
fluenced by him, whom he did not know or dream of, 
— whom he knows now! 



32 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

"Undoubtedly there is a cloud of witnesses to the 
sublimity of that faith, and the simplicity of that piety, 
which made their lasting impression upon otherwise 
heedless souls. To those not acquainted with or 
superficially knowing Henry Camp, this sketch may 
seem only a fulsome panegyric ; but it is true (and it 
can be said of very few men) that no word of praise 
could be erased without doing him injustice. Indeed, 
words are worth very little to those who knew him 
thoroughly. They may perhaps suggest tender 
memories that will come thronging back, laden with 
renewed love and respect for him who commanded by 
his intrinsic worth so much of affection and so much 
of reverence. 

"'No man despised his youth;' for he was 'an 
example of the believers in word, in conversation, in 
charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.' 

"The poet of his class, in his valedictory poem, 
described, as beautifully as he did correctly, such a 
character as Camp's, in the following verses : 

" Living well is not mere living 

In the cultured taste of schools : 
'Tis not in the knack of business, 
Or the hoarded gold of fools ; 

But an earnest life's deep passion 

Beating in a kingly heart, 
With the gentle grace of goodness 

Glorifying every part." 

" If ever there was ' a voice from the tomb sweeter 



A CROWNING VICTORY. 33 

than song, and a recollection of the dead to which we 
turn, even from the charms of the living,' it is when 
such Christian bravery as his achieves its crowning 
victory over the grave, and when the homage we pay 
to his intellectual nobility is sanctified by the blessed 
memory of those virtues which are ' the native growth 
of noble mind.' " 




CHAPTER III. 



TEACHER, LAW STUDENT, SOLDIER. 




:FTER leaving college, Camp's first testing 
of his new acquisitions was in the work of 
teaching. In the early autumn following 
his graduation he took charge of the high 
school at East Hartford, and remained as 
its principal about six months. He became warmly 
attached to some who were his pupils there ; but teach- 
ing was tame business to him, especially in the stirring 
times then opening before the nation. 

Accepting the responsibilities of the elective fran- 
chise after his careful study of the Constitution, he cast 
his first vote, in the spring of i860, for good Governor 
Buckingham. In the Presidential election of the No- 
vember following, he voted for Abraham Lincoln. Of 
the possible consequences of this vote he was not un- 
mindful, yet he had no hesitation in casting it. Doing 
what he believed to be right, he was never anxious as 
to the result. He did not desire war. Brought up in 
the strictest non-resistant school, he was emphatically 
a lover of peace. Of gentle, retiring nature, he shrank 
34 



STANDING FOR PRINCIPLE. 35 

instinctively from unpleasant collision with any. He 
never quarreled. Up to this time he had never lifted 
a hand in anger, or even struck a blow in self-defense. 
He was ready to yield whatever was properly at his 
disposal, for the good of others, or for the sake of har- 
mony. But, though never obstinate, he was ever firm. 
He could not concede an iota of principle. It seemed 
an impossibility for him to swerve a hair, on any in- 
ducement, from the path of duty as he saw it. Nothing 
but a clear change of conviction ever changed a posi- 
tion which he assumed on a moral question. War or no 
war, he would vote and act as he believed to be right. 

In the early spring of 1861, a letter received from a 
resident of the South, formerly his playfellow and 
schoolmate, while it grieved him by an unexpected 
harshness of spirit, aroused his sense of manliness by 
its flings at Northerners, and its threats of resistance 
to Federal rule. He replied to the letter in calm dig- 
nity, avoiding every issue but the simple one of duty 
to a Government whose beneficent rule its bitterest 
opposers could not gainsay, while he held to account 
for all consequences those who arrayed themselves 
against just authority. In concluding, he said: — 

" Should you resist, as you threaten, upon your 
heads, and yours alone, will rest the fearful responsi- 
bility of commencing a civil war. We have planted 
ourselves upon the foundation of the Constitution and 
the Laws : from it, we shall neither advance to aggres- 
sion, nor retreat one hair's breadth in concession. Con- 



36 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

scious that we have done all in our power for the 
maintenance of peace and harmony, loath to encounter 
in arms those whom we have been wont to greet as 
brothers, we shall yet meet unflinchingly whatever 
issue may be forced upon us, urged on, not by impulse 
or passion, but by a solemn sense of the duty which 
we owe to our country. Nor will the men of New 
England, sons of those who fought at Bunker Hill and 
Saratoga, who defended for the South the soil which 
her Tories would not and her patriots could not de- 
fend for themselves, be found wanting in the hour of 
trial. Side by side with the brave men of the West, 
we will stand to the last for the Union, the Constitu- 
tion, and the Laws, — and may God defend the right!" 

After leaving his work in East Hartford, Camp 
commenced the study of law in the office of Hon. John 
Hooker, reporter of the Supreme Court of Connecti- 
cut. The opening of the war found him thus engaged ; 
and, during the first seven months of its progress, he 
remained a law student, — yet by no means contentedly. 

Had he followed his impulses, he would have sprung 
forward at the first call of the President for troops ; for 
he was already prepared for the issue, and he was never 
a laggard in duty. But there were considerations that 
held him back for a time. Those whose judgment he 
had ever deferred to, and whom above all others he 
loved to please, while as warmly patriotic as himself, 
were so imbued with the gentle spirit of Christian 
charity, of love to all, that they could not, at first, see 



LONGING FOR SERVICE. T>7 

the justification of war, even under any pressure of 
wrong from others. They were unwilling that the son 
of their hearts should be engaged in a work of blood, 
not because he might lose his own life, but lest he 
should take the life of others. 

If the need of men to defend the Government had, 
at that time, been greater, the issue might have been 
raised, in Camp's mind, between filial and patriotic ob- 
ligations ; but just then more men were offering them- 
selves than could be accepted, and it was rather as 
a privilege than a duty that any entered the army. 
Hence, Henry Camp denied himself, and stayed at 
home ; and no sacrifice which he ever made cost him 
more, or was more purely an act of generous self- 
abnegation, than to sit down in ease at the North dur- 
ing the earlier months of the nation's struggle for life. 
But, although at home, he was making ready for the 
service in which he was yet to bear a part. Joining 
in April the Hartford City Guard, a fine organization 
of citizen soldiery, he acquired proficiency in the de- 
tails of drill and company movements, while making 
army tactics more or less his study. On September 5, 
1 86 1, as a member of the City Guard, doing escort 
duty, he accompanied the remains of General Lyon to 
their resting-place in Eastford ; and the impressions 
of that occasion only added fervor to his strong desire 
to have a part in the contest in which the hero, then 
buried, had fallen. 

His opportunity came at length. In November, a 



38 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

commission was tendered him in the Tenth Regiment 
of Connecticut Volunteer Infantry, then at the Annap- 
olis rendezvous of General Burnside's Coast Division. 
The proffered position was unsought and unexpected. 
The call to it enabled him to urge anew upon his par- 
ents the claims of country on his personal service, and 
the fresh indication of his duty furnished by this seem- 
ing providential summons. While the subject was 
under deliberation, he prayerfully sought God's coun- 
sel, and earnestly searched the Scriptures, as often 
before, for direction as to the path of right. The con- 
sent of his parents was obtained. The way was then 
clear before him. He signified his readiness to accept 
an appointment, and received a commission as second 
lieutenant, dated December 5, 1861. He was com- 
missioned by Governor Buckingham on the nomina- 
tion of Colonel Charles L. Russell, the gallant and 
experienced commander of the Tenth, whose desire of 
increasing the number of good officers in the regiment 
induced him to seek the best material from without, 
to take the place of that sifted out in the process of 
organization. 

Camp entered joyfully upon his new sphere of action. 
Those who saw and heard him at the Asylum Hill 
Sunday-school, where he was a faithful and beloved 
teacher, on the Sunday before his departure for the 
army, will not soon forget the impressions of that occa- 
sion. Just before the close of the session, the super- 
intendent called the attention of the school to the fact, 



GOING TO THE WAR. 39 

that another of its valued teachers was to leave for the 
army in the course of the week, and added that it 
would be gratifying to all to listen to his parting words. 
Thus called upon, Camp rose at his seat, in a far cor- 
ner of the room, and, modestly declining to step forward 
to a more prominent place, said in substance, in his 
quiet, unassuming, yet dignified and impressive man- 
ner : " My friends, I have no farewell speech to make 
to-day, nor would it be becoming in me to attempt 
one. I am only one more going out to the war, as 
many, who will be more missed than I shall be, have 
gone before. Why should this call for special notice ? 
Although I love my home, and love this old school, I 
cannot say that I am sorry I am going away. I can- 
not even say that I leave you all because I deem it my 
duty to go. I rejoice rather, that, at length, I am to 
have the part I have longed for, but which has been 
denied me until now, in defending my Government and 
in serving my Country. I go because I want to go ; 
and I give God thanks for the privilege of going." 
And so it was that Henry Camp went to the war. 

Hastening to Annapolis, he joined his regiment, and 
entered on the performance of a soldier's duty, and the 
study of his new profession. He was among strangers, 
and in a strange work. Few men ever left a pleasanter 
home, or more entirely changed their associates, hab- 
its, and surroundings, on joining the army, than did 
Henry Camp. It was impossible that he should feel 
entirely at ease, and have no yearnings for the delights 



40 TITE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

he had left behind. Yet he did not repent his decision. 
Writing home on his first Sunday evening in camp, 
he said : — 

" I have just been to a prayer-meeting, and it really 
seems good, after such a busy, working week. I shall 
prize these services, and, I think, enjoy them a great 
deal better than I did at home. They are held nearly 
every evening ; but our officers' school interferes with 
my attending them, except on Sunday. To-night, a 
great fire was built at the foot of one of the company 
streets, and we gathered around it, standing, of course. 
There are several Greenwich men here, who have come 
to see how their boys are getting along, — men who 
have already done a great deal, and are ready to do 
more ; and one of them spoke very earnestly. Chap- 
lain Hall said a few words : the rest consisted about 
equally of prayers and singing. 

" The only trouble about these meetings is, that they 
seem so homelike and pleasant, that I believe a few 
more would make me homesick. I suspect I should 
be very soon, if every day were Sunday, and I had leis- 
ure to write to you, and think about you: yet I have 
no doubt that it is a hundred times better for me to be 
here ; and I am very glad that I came. I enjoy the 
idea that I am really at work, though I can't tell yet 
how much my work will accomplish : something, I 
believe, for myself, if for nobody else." 

In full appreciation of the novelties and incongruities 
of life in camp, he added : — 



CAMP LIFE AT ANNAPOLIS. 41 

" There are all sorts of things going on here at once. 
Anybody that can't suit himself somewhere must be 
hard to suit. Prayer-meetings at one end of an ave- 
nue ; a group swearing till they make everything blue, 
at the other ; one set singing, ' Down in Alabam ; ' 
another, hymns ; some reading in their tents ; some 
chasing each other round, or wrestling ; bands playing 
or drums beating somewhere almost all the time ; sen- 
tinels calling for the corporal of the guard, and passing 
the word along the lines ; a little, or rather a good 
deal, of everything, — it isn't much like a home Sunday, 
unless you happen to get into the right spot, and then 
it is." 

He had not been long in the regiment, before he 
learned that a prejudice existed against himself and 
the newly appointed officers who came with him from 
Connecticut, because they were selected from without 
to fill places aspired to by non-commissioned officers, 
who were in the regiment at its organization. The 
discovery of this fact gave Camp scarcely any annoy- 
ance. He merely mentions it incidentally in a home 
letter. It does not seem to have caused him an hour's 
discomfort. He had not sought the commission : it 
had been tendered him by those who had the right to 
give it, and who, being competent judges, and having 
the interests of the regiment at heart, had thought it 
best to secure his services. He had come, not to obtain 
popularity or advancement, but to serve his country 
and perform the duties of his sphere. What others 



42 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

thought of him, while his conscience was clear, was 
not a point about which he was anxious. With all his 
modesty he had the intuitive consciousness that time 
would right him, as it did most gloriously. Mean- 
while he moved on in the calm dignity of his noble- 
ness, respected by all, — as well by those who envied 
him and had jealousy of his position, as by those who 
admired him and were always glad he had entered the 
regiment. 

The Tenth was in the brigade of General John G. 
Foster, which included also the Twenty-third, Twenty- 
fourth, Twenty-fifth, and Twenty-seventh Massachu- 
setts regiments, — all New England troops of the 
choicest material. The time passed at Annapolis was 
improved in necessary drill and discipline, and in 
other preparations for the somewhat delayed move of 
the expedition. 

As a Christmas gift, Camp sent home, in a letter, a 
pencil-sketch of his regimental camp at Annapolis. 
This sketch appears on the opposite page. 

About the first of January, 1862, orders were received 
for the embarkation of the troops of the expedition ; 
but a delay of several days occurred before all was 
ready, and the fleet left Annapolis. Eight companies 
of the Tenth were on the steamer New Brunswick. 
Two companies, I and B, were on the schooner E. W. 
Farrington. Lieutenant Camp was of Company I. The 
fleet rendezvoused at Fort Monroe, and thence sailed for 
Hatteras. On his first Sunday at sea, Camp wrote: — 




"K- ■■■■ 
-• 



LIFE ON A TRANSPORT. 43 

" It hasn't seemed much like Sabbath to me. Every- 
thing on shipboard must of course go on as usual, and 
reading The Independent is almost the only thing 
that reminds me of home, — by association, I mean : 
there is plenty to do it by contrast. How little I 
thought, a few Sabbaths ago, that I should be on the 
Atlantic to-day, bound for Hatteras, in a little schooner 
full of soldiers on their way to the battle-field, — and I 
one of them ! that's the strangest of it ! I can't realize 
it yet any better than I could at first. I have to stop 
once in a while, and take a good look at myself, — and 
that doesn't do much toward it either ; and then go 
back to the time I left home, and think it all over from 
the beginning, before I can be quite sure that this fel- 
low here isn't somebody else, and that / am not back 
in Hartford, studying law and teaching Sunday-school, 
and living a good-for-nothing lazy life of it generally." 

He lived no "good-for-nothing lazy life" in army 
service. While on the transport, his opportunities to 
exert himself for others were as few as they could be 
anywhere ; yet even there he proved how ready he was 
to do his utmost in his sphere. Stormy weather de- 
layed the progress of the fleet. Some of the vessels 
drew more water than had been agreed upon, and could 
not pass the shoal across Hatteras Inlet, known as the 
" Swash." Weeks instead of days went by before all 
were fairly inside the shoal. The quarters of the men 
were cramped, close, and uncleanly. The drinking- 
water had all been put in filthy casks. Commissary 



44 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

stores were of the poorest kind. Army contractors had 
proved a curse to the expedition. The health and the 
spirits of officers and men suffered greatly. Drill was 
out of the question. Discipline could be but partial, 
at the best. Everything tended to laxness and de- 
moralization. 

Under these circumstances, the pure example of 
Lieutenant Camp was most effective for good. A 
brother officer tells of sitting by a table with him, in 
the saloon of the New Brunswick, one evening, play- 
ing chess, when an officer near them indulged in im- 
pure language. Camp, he says, fairly blushed like a 
maiden; and then, as the same style of remark was 
repeated, he rose from his seat, saying, " Let us find 
another place, the air is very foul here." Another 
officer, who was his companion on the Farrington, 
says, that during all those weeks of wearisomeness, 
with the entire lack of home restraints, with the strong 
temptation to idle talk, and with the example of so 
many in coarseness or profanity, no one ever heard 
Camp utter a single word that might not properly have 
been spoken in his parlor before his mother and sisters. 

Before he had been many days on shipboard, he had 
an opportunity of proving conspicuously his courage 
and gallantry. The steamer City of New York 
was wrecked just outside the bar, after the Farring- 
ton had passed within. The captain of the schooner 
determined to attempt the rescue of those on the wreck 
by putting off in his yawl in the severe storm then 



A PULL FOR LIFE. 45 

raging. Lieutenant Camp proposed to accompany 
him ; but the old skipper " disdained him, for he was 
but a youth, and ruddy, and of a fair countenance." 
"You!" he cried in a contemptuous tone, "why, you 
couldn't handle one of those big oars ! " On Camp's 
assuring him that he had had some experience in row- 
ing, and thought he could get along, the captain hesi- 
tatingly accepted his services, taking an extra man in 
the boat in view of the lieutenant's probable failure. 

The storm was fearful. The little boat which put 
off for the wreck was a mere plaything in the boiling 
surge, tossed hither and thither by the lashing waves 
and the driving gale, shipping more than one sea that 
seemed sure to swamp it, and being kept on its way 
only by the stoutest hearts, the strongest arms, and 
the steadiest nerves. The attempt to reach the steamer 
proved vain. Human strength was helpless against 
the combined power of the enraged elements. One 
after another* of the boat's crew gave up in despair, 
until only a single sailor remained with Lieutenant 
Camp, self-possessed and undaunted. The order was 
given to return to the transport. When again on his 
own deck, the captain, whose distrust of the fair-faced 
young officer had given place to admiration for the 
brave-hearted, unflinching, skilful oarsman, declared, 
enthusiastically : " Lieutenant Camp was game, and 
the pluckiest fellow I ever saw : if I had had a boat's 
crew like him I could have gone through to the 
wreck." Others who watched the scene were equally 



46 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

impressed in the young - student-soldier's favor. Said 
one of these : " Lieutenant Camp would never have 
given the word to turn back, for fear was no part of 
his composition." The story of this exploit was often 
repeated in his praise, among the men of his company 
and throughout the regiment. 





CHAPTER IV. 

ROANOKE AND NEW- BERNE. 

iT length there was a break in the long 
storm. The vessels of the fleet were either 
over the " Swash," or their troops and 
freight were transferred to other craft. 
Early in February, there was an advance 
up Pamlico Sound toward Roanoke Island. 

" It was something of a sight," wrote Camp, " to see 
so many vessels under headway at once ; gunboats 
leading off, steamers and sailing vessels in tow of them, 
following on in a procession some four or five miles 
long, while little tugs and fast propellers dodged 
about among them in all directions. General Burnside 
passed us soon after we started, standing on the hurri- 
cane-deck of a small steamer, and compelled to keep 
his head uncovered half the time in acknowledgment 
of the cheers which went up from every vessel as he 
came opposite. He and Foster are both of them mag- 
nificent-looking men, tall, of commanding presence, 
and generally quite the article one reads of." 

47 



48 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

Of his personal feelings on the approach of the bat- 
tle, Camp wrote, the evening before the landing: — 

" I can't realize that I am to have my first experi- 
ence of battle to-morrow, — perhaps my last ; not fully, 
at least. I believe that something so entirely out of 
the range of all one's previous experience needs to be 
once seen before it can be brought by any effort fairly 
into the scope of thought. I suppose that is one rea- 
son why it affects me so little. I expected to be at 
least somewhat excited beforehand ; but I have been ten 
times more so the evening before a boat-race. I shall 
sleep to-night like a top, and don't believe I shall dream 
about it. I wish I could feel so when the time comes. 
I shall be excited enough then, I'll venture. If I can 
keep cool enough to behave myself, it's all I expect." 

His farewell letter, written on that night of eventful 
anticipation, to be delivered to his home friends in case 
of his fall, was touchingly beautiful, so full of tender- 
ness for those whom he addressed, so firm in its as- 
surance of satisfaction with his lot in such a cause, so 
clear in its expression of faith in Jesus as his Saviour. 
It was never forwarded, but destroyed by him long 
after, when it had been read to the friend in whom he, 
afterward, came to confide so fully. 

In the afternoon of February 7, the troops landed 
on Roanoke Island under cover of the gunboats' fire. 
There was a dismal night in a pitiless storm, without 
shelter for the poor men, who were as yet unused to 
the exposures of active campaigning. The following 



DENIED A SHARE IN BATTLE. 



49 



morning was the day of battle. To his disappointment 
and regret, Camp was prevented sharing in all the 
excitements of the contest by being ordered to the 
landing on special duty, just as his regiment was taking 
position on the field. His hurried letter of the follow- 
ing day told the story briefly: — 

" I suppose you will hear of the fight, and be anxious. 
I am safe and well, — wasn't in the action, I'm sorry to 
say; not through any fault of mine, though. Just 
before our regiment was ordered to the front, I was 
sent, by General Foster's orders, on detached service. 
Ammunition was needed ; and I was directed to take 
a steamer, get 140,000 rounds from a vessel that lay 
two or three miles offshore, and use my discretion as 
to the means of bringing it forward as rapidly as pos- 
sible. I used all speed ; but the affair was over before 
I could rejoin the regiment. It was a hard fight, and 
a splendid victory. If I only could have been there ! 
To think that the regiment has been in such a glorious 
affair, and I have no part in it ! It was hard to be the 
one sent away." 

In a subsequent letter, he described vividly the ad- 
vance of his regiment to the battle, and the incidents 
of the opening fight. Although not actually under 
fire, he passed through all the tedious preliminaries of 
the action, which every old soldier knows constitutes 
the most trying, even if not the most perilous, part of 
such an engagement. It was of the early morning of 
February 8 that he wrote : — 

4 



50 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

" The men fell in promptly and coolly, and stood 
awaiting orders, — eating their breakfasts, many of 
them, in the meantime. The regiments on the right 
of the brigade took up the march first, the others fol- 
lowing in brigade order (we came third), marching in 
column, four abreast, along a narrow road with dense 
underbrush on either side, making it very difficult for 
the skirmishers on the flanks to advance, and furnish- 
ing every advantage for an enterprising enemy to annoy 
us. They didn't, however. . . . 

"As we advanced, we could hear the frequent re- 
ports of muskets, and the occasional crack of a rifle, 
sounding some half a mile ahead. It was evident that 
the skirmishers were at it. Not far beyond the brook 
we passed the Twenty-first Massachusetts, who had 
been at the outposts during the night, — some in line 
along the roadside, some around fires a little farther 
in the woods, — a fine-looking set of fellows, who ex- 
changed jokes and greetings with us as we went by. 
The farther we went, the sharper the firing became ; 
and soon we had to make way for four men who came 
carrying a litter, heavy, with a blanket thrown over 
what lay upon it. Men looked at each other, and 
grew sober. Presently a couple more came with one 
between them : no wound was visible ; but he was 
ghastly pale, and could scarcely walk with their sup- 
port. Then we came upon another, lying quite still 
by the roadside; he had been brought so far and left, 
the wounded needed attention more than he. There 



FIRST SIGNS OF FIGHTING. 5 I 

was no blood, or almost none, upon any of them. I 
looked to see the wounds, and wondered that there 
seemed to be none, until I remembered that gunshot 
injuries seldom cause any flow of blood which would 
soak through the clothing. Another passed, with one 
on each side to help him : he groaned heavily ; and 
his left arm, what there was of it, hung in rags from 
its bloody stump : it had been shattered by the pre- 
mature discharge of one of our own field-pieces. 

" These things are so different to see and to read 
about, it strikes one like a new idea to have the sight 
actually before his eyes, just as if he hadn't expected 
that very thing. I can't describe the sensation it gave 
me. I shan't pretend to say that I wasn't at all affected 
by it ; indeed, of all the men whom I have heard speak 
about it since the time, there was only one who did pre- 
tend so, — he may, perhaps, have told the truth. 

" Our march was obstructed by water and thickets ; 
sometimes we halted to allow those behind to come 
up, then started off at double-quick to gain lost dis- 
tance. The discharge of cannon and musketiy grew 
constantly louder and more frequent, until there was 
an almost uninterrupted rattle, evidently quite near, but 
more apparently to the left than in front. At length 
we halted, and the men rested for a few moments to 
give the regiment before us time to get into position 
before we advanced to ours. The wounded were being 
brought by at short intervals, and we had nothing to 
do but watch them as they passed. 



52 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

" It was curious to notice the different effect which 
the first true idea of what battle is produced on dif- 
ferent men. I looked at various faces. Some were 
perfectly natural; a few bright; a large majority ex- 
ceedingly sober; more than one a little pale. I was 
wondering whether I looked pale, when Major Petti- 
bone came up and ordered me to the head of the 
column to tell Colonel Russell that the general's orders 
were to advance. I delivered the message, and re- 
ceived for reply that General Foster was himself there 
and in command. So I reported to the major, and 
took my place again." 

It was just then that Lieutenant Camp was ordered 
back for the ammunition. The task assigned him was 
a tedious one; and when it was at length accomplished, 
his regiment, having changed position, was not easily 
found by him. Although he strained every nerve to 
be speedily again at the front, it was evening before he 
was once more with his command. 

"Late in the afternoon," he continued, "after I had 
given up all hopes of rejoining the regiment in season 
to take any part in the action, General Foster, with a 
couple of his aides, came riding along. He stopped 
and told us the news himself. 'They have surren- 
dered! — 2,000 prisoners! They asked what terms I 
would give them: I said an unconditional surrender, 
and they accepted ! ' The men didn't give him time 
to finish. Up went the caps, and up went the cheers, 
and up went the men bodily; their loads didn't weigh 



THE COST OF VICTORY. 53 

a feather. He inquired about the ammunition, and 
passed on." 

The part of the Tenth in the engagement had been 
prominent and honorable, and its losses severe. Gal- 
lant Colonel Russell had been killed early in the action. 
Other brave officers and good men had given the 
testimony of blood to their patriotism. To one who 
had so longed for the privilege of an active part in the 
great conflict as Henry Camp, the disappointment of 
being separated from his regiment at the decisive hour 
of such a contest was bitter and enduring. The thrill- 
ing narrative of the excitements and perils of the day, 
to which he listened with profoundest interest by the 
bivouac fire on the stormy night succeeding, and every 
repetition of its noteworthy incidents, from brother 
officers, on subsequent occasions, only intensified his 
regret, and deepened his sense of personal loss. 

"The more I think of my own absence," he wrote, a 
few days later, "the more it provokes me. Not that I, 
or any one else, feel as if I was at all to blame for it ; 
but it has drawn a sort of line between me and all the 
rest. They shared the danger, and, of course, share 
the exultation of the battle. I can only rejoice as I 
would over any other victory. They have all been 
tested, and stood the test. I am still untried. They, 
in short, are the victors in one of the most glorious 
battles — perhaps the very most so — that have yet been 
fought. I had nothing to do with it : even my wretched 
ammunition wasn't needed or used. It's very doubt- 



54 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

ful whether our regiment has another chance. Even 
if there is another fight at New-Berne, the second 
brigade will probably claim and receive the advance. 
At the best, I shall always be one behind the rest, — 
have one less deed to remember and be proud of. 

" I don't like to think of all my friends who know 
that the Tenth Connecticut distinguished itself, in- 
quiring where I was, and what I was about; and what 
will provoke me most of all will be the attempt I 
know some of them will make to persuade me they 
think it was just as well, all the same thing, and all 
that humbug. Anything but that! If the war should 
come to an end, as I suppose I ought to hope it will, 
without my having been in battle, I shall never want 
to show my face again at home ; not that I shall have 
anything to be ashamed of, but that I sha'n't have 
anything else. There's enough of grumbling ! — it's 
babyish, and does no good: but that's just the way I 
feel about it; and now that I've cried my cry out, I'll 
stop." 

The troops remained but a few days on shore at 
Roanoke Island. Re-embarking, they made several 
demonstrations up Pamlico Sound; but the advance 
to New-Berne was delayed until the following month. 
During the weeks of waiting on shipboard, before and 
after the first landing, Camp's home letters were full 
and varied, showing him in his true light as the man 
of cheerfulness, of honor, of courage, of patriotism, of 
purity, of poetiy, and of Christian faith. 



MAKING LIGHT OF HARDSHIPS. 55 

"I have just been hearing," he wrote, "part of a 
letter from the New York Times, about this expedi- 
tion, written at Hatteras ; very accurate in its state- 
ments ; but I really hadn't realized before what a hard 
time we have had of it. It sounds quite formidable, 
all boiled down and concentrated into the space of one 
newspaper column ; but taken in small doses, as we 
have had it, at considerable intervals, it hasn't seemed 
to amount to so much. We have concluded, since read- 
ing it, to set up for martyrs : the idea hadn't occurred 
to us before. 

"These things are not half as hard as they sound; 
they are just what we anticipate, and go prepared for; 
very different from what they would be to one fresh 
from home, without the hardening process which we 
have already undergone in camp." 

It was thus that he sought to encourage his friends 
at home as to his personal trials and privations on the 
close, cramped, and filthy transport. If he mentioned 
these at all, it was in a burlesque strain that hardly 
made an appeal for pitying sympathy. Thus from the 
" Swash : " 

"The poor fellows down in the hold would be glad 
to stretch their legs ashore, I know. They are terri- 
bly crowded. They are packed so close at night, that, 
when they have lain long enough on one side, some- 
body sings out, ' Hard-a-lee,' and over they all go to- 
gether, just as we used to hoist the signal, 'Leg over,' 
in the recitation-room at college, and astonish the 



56 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

tutors with a simultaneous whisk from one side to the 
other. This is a little more practical. . . . 

"All our water is brought from Baltimore: it 
costs seven cents a gallon, delivered at Annapolis. It 
isn't first-rate, though the barrel we are now on an- 
swers well enough. The flavor depends on what the 
barrel held before. This was a whisky barrel : those 
we have had — kerosene and turpentine — were not so 
good. . . . 

" I'll venture to say that there's no spot in the 
United States where there are more men, boys, ne- 
groes, and cockroaches, to the square foot, than in the 
cabin of the E. W. Farrington. The first three I'm 
used to, — can stand being crowded by them ; but this 
having cockroaches hold a door when one tries to 
open it, and pull his blankets off from him at night, is 
something new. We have held our own pretty well ; 
but they are gradually getting the upper hand of us : 
infantry are no match for them, and we talk of getting 
a few artillerymen, with their guns, from Fort Hatteras. 
I thought of putting a few specimens into the box of 
curiosities I send home, making a regular infernal 
machine of it ; but, reflecting that you have no arms 
but the old Revolutionary sword, concluded to 
wait." 

Of the national situation just then, before the brill- 
iant victories on the Western waters had reassured 
confidence in the Federal cause, and while enemies at 
the North weie co-operating with enemies beyond the 



PATRIOTISM AND CHIVALRY. 57 

seas to give encouragement and aid to enemies at the 
South, he spoke with firmness and courage. 

" Things abroad do look pretty dark for us, don't 
they ? if foreign newspapers at all reflect the feelings 
of their governments. It is a hard fight now. Euro- 
pean intervention would make it well-nigh desperate. 
I hope that our Government will stand firm at all haz- 
ards, and that the North will sustain such a policy 
until the last dollar is gone, the last village burned to 
the ground, and the last able-bodied man has fallen on 
the battle-field ; but I'm afraid they haven't the reso- 
lution and the self-denial to hold out to the end. I 
am afraid that danger and disaster will develop cow- 
ardice, as they always do, and we shall be left to the 
fate we shall then deserve. I haven't really looked 
upon such a thing as possible, hitherto : it need not 
be now, if the nation will only put forth its strength ; 
but will it ? That's the question. I don't see how any 
man, who can do anything, can be inactive now, when 
every day of his life is worth a century." 

Referring to the advance of the troops up Roanoke 
Island after the battle, and their visits to the camps 
and homes of the enemy, he gave expression to his 
refined sense of honor as a truly chivalrous soldier. 

" Besides many other articles taken from the field or 
from houses, a number of letters were found, curious 
specimens enough, some of them, in point both of 
manner and matter, — on all subjects, from love to shoe- 
pegs. I was almost ashamed of myself for listening 



58 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

while some of them were being read. I don t know 
what title a victory gives one to pry into other men's pri- 
vate matters in this way, those at least of a domestic or 
social nature; and it really seems too bad. This letter 
business strikes me as a very different thing from the 
transfer of ordinary property, according to the rule 
which every one recognizes, that to the victors belong 
the spoils." 

Surely a college-mate esteemed him rightly who 
wrote, on hearing of his death, " I can conceive nothing 
knightlier than Henry Camp, the soldier. All the 
graces of valor, loyalty, and generosity must have sat 
upon him, and made him the very flower of our heroic 
youth. Great-Heart is the name that became him. 
Like Bunyan's knight, he has overcome, and passed 
on and up before us to the better country." 

A few nights before the battle of New-Berne, he 
wrote : — 

" It has been a beautiful day, and the fleet was a fine 
sight, at noon, as it stretched in long line from east to 
west, moving steadily, and with a look of power that 
was magnificent. No land in sight, except a few blue 
lines at intervals along the horizon; and again at sun- 
set, when the sun, which had been for some hours 
clouded, came out and lit the whole scene most gor- 
geously. I climbed the shrouds, and stayed aloft until 
it began to grow dark. It isn't often, in an ordinary 
lifetime, that one sees a sight better worth looking at 
than that was. It's very true that soldiering isn't all 



BETWEEN ROANOKE AND NEW-BERNE. 59 

poetry, according to some ; but neither is it all prose, 
according to others. 

" I wish I was good at description. I'd like to paint 
you a scene occasionally, so that you could see it as 
you can Scott's or Longfellow's. And that /, of all 
men, who have never pictured to myself, even in imagi- 
nation, any but the most commonplace, dog-trot sort 
of a life, should be in the midst of what seems to me, 
even now, more like romance than fact, — I can't real- 
ize it more than half the time." 

It was after such an evening of poetic musing that he 
wrote the following lines, — as stately and as graceful 
as his own manly form, and as warm as his own loving 
heart. They shortly after appeared anonymously in 
the Hartford Evening Press : — 

BETWEEN ROANOKE AND NEW-BERNE. 

The swift-winged Northern breezes are blowing fair and free : 
I pace by night the spray-wet deck, and watch the rushing sea; 
The whistling of the shrill-voiced wind is full of speech to me : 
It stretches taut the swelling sail, it crests the wave with foam : 
I drink its bracing freshness ; it is the breath of home. 

From hoary monarch mountains, whose giant cliffs, piled high, 
Lift up their snow -crowned foreheads against the clear, cold 

sky, — 
From forests dark with shadow, where pine and cedar fling 
Music and fragrance mingled upon the zephyr's wing, — 
From leaping white-maned torrents, that thunder on their way, 
Cleaving a path of madness through splintered granite gray, — 
From every hill and valley, — from every rock and tree, — 
New England sends a deep-drawn breath, far o'er the Southern sea. 



60 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

Slowly the anxious hours passed on in dark suspense 

With breathing hushed to silence, and nerve and heartstring 

tense : 
Now swells from heaving bosom the sigh of deep relief, 
Too sad for shout of triumph, too proud for sob of grief, — 
The banners of our victory wave o'er a fallen chief. 1 

Yet welcome, at whatever price, the Nation's leap to life ! 
Rather than deathly stupor, hail to the deadly strife ! 
From East to West, the solid tramp of armies shakes the ground ; 
The vibrant clang of ringing steel fills all the air with sound ; 
The sword, so long uplifted, sweeps down in sudden wrath : 
Right through the hosts of treason it hews its crimson path. 

Before its edge of terror shrink back the rebel foe, 
As leaves that curl before the breath of Etna's fiery flow ; 
Again is bared the red right arm another blow to smite ; 
Already blaze the signals that tell of coming fight, — 
To-morrow's sun shall set in blood, — Amen ! — God speed the 
right ! 

On the 13th of March, the troops landed at Slocum's 
Creek, about fifteen miles below New -Berne, and 
marched some ten miles in a drenching rain toward 
the city. There was another night of bivouac in a 
pelting storm, as at Roanoke, to the sore discomfort 
of all. 

" I stood before the fire," wrote Camp, cheerfully, 
of that night, "until I was tolerably dry; took my 
blankets, which the india-rubber had kept in good 
order, for a seat; leaned my back against a stack of 
rifles, and slept three or four hours quite comfortably. 

1 Colonel Russell of the Tenth. 



THE TEST OF BATTLE. 6 1 

I believe, with a little practice, I could sleep standing 
on one foot or on my head : it's all habit, and I'm 
quite getting over the foolish prejudice in favor of 
lying down, — especially on anything soft." 

An early start was made on the morning of the 
14th, and an advance toward the enemy's intrenched 
position. It was not long before Camp had the desired 
opportunity to test himself in battle. 

" I was afraid," he wrote, " we shouldn't reach the 
front before the affair was over; but very soon the 
order came to turn aside from the road, and march 
through the fields to a position farther to the left. We 
took an oblique direction, and hadn't gone a hundred 
rods when a loud, swift whiz went through the air, 
sounding as if some one had torn a thousand yards of 
canvas from one end to the other at a single pull. 
Almost everybody involuntarily looked up (I did), as 
if we could have seen it pass, when it was far beyond 
us when the sound first struck our ears. Some 
stooped, — one or two crouching close to the earth, and 
hardly ready to rise until they were sharply started. 
A few yards farther, and there was another, — this time 
apparently passing but a little above our heads; then 
another, and still more; some farther, and some nearer, 
— every one causing more or less dodging, and an 
occasional irregularity in the ranks, promptly checked, 
as far as possible, by the officers. 

"We passed obliquely into the woods, and were 
ordered to lie down just behind the crest of a slightly 



62 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

inclining slope. The men were behaving well enough ; 
but they didn't wait to hear the order twice. I never 
saw a crowd drop quite so suddenly as they did. As we 
lay on the marshy ground, bullets flew thick ; some 
seeming to pass only two or three feet over us : one 
entered the ground just at the elbow of one of the men. 
Occasionally there would be none heard for some little 
time, then a perfect shower would hiss along, with a 
sharp 'thud' now and then as one struck a tree close 
by. Grape rattled through once or twice, generally 
passing high; though I saw the water dashed up by 
it, from a pool a little to the right. We had been in 
this position perhaps twenty or thirty minutes, when 
an order came for us to march to the front, and open 
fire immediately. 'Now,' said I, 'it's coming: in 
about three minutes we shall see who's who, and 
what's what.' The fire of the enemy, at this time, 
seemed to be directed elsewhere. We advanced to 
the edge of the woods, formed line of battle, and pre- 
pared to fire, without, I think, their having observed 
us at all. 

"We knew that, as soon as we discovered our situa- 
tion by firing, we should be answered ; but, in the 
meantime, we had opportunity to form and dress the 
line without disturbance. It had scarcely been done, 
when our right opened fire ; and it passed rapidly down 
the line toward us. The men were, for the moment, 
wild with excitement, and waited for no orders, but 
raised their pieces and fired, — half of them without 



ANOTHER VICTORY. 63 

taking aim. I checked those who were near me. But 
soon the order was given, and at it they went again, — 
loading and firing just as rapidly as they could handle 
their pieces. 

"We could see the puffs of smoke rise from the 
breastworks in front of us, and once or twice a momen- 
tary slackening of our own volleys allowed us to hear 
the whistle of bullets. It didn't need that to make the 
reports of artillery, and roar of solid shot through the 
air, audible ; but it was some little time before I saw 
any effects of their reply to us. I had been moving 
from one to another, rectifying the aim of some who 
fired high, and seeing to it that they understood what 
they were about, when I saw a man who had been 
lying on the ground a few yards to the left, roll sud- 
denly over. I turned toward him ; but some one was 
already supporting his head, as the blood gushed over 
his face from a hideous wound: a bullet had entered 
his eye, and lodged in the lower part of his head. 
Several of the men gathered around; but I sent them 
back to their places, and they went without a word. 
Most of them behaved excellently throughout, listen- 
ing to orders, and obeying them promptly, after the 
wild excitement of the first few rounds was over. 

"We were still firing rapidly, when cheering rose 
loud in front; and, in a moment more, our flag ap- 
peared, waving from the parapet of the breastwork. 
They cheered on the right, and they cheered on the 
left, and they cheered before us, and we cheered, and 



64 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

had hardly finished cheering when the order came to 
resume our march. The battle was over, and we had 
only to take possession of New-Berne." 

Camp had passed bravely the ordeal of battle. So 
cool was he, seemingly unmoved when the fight was 
hottest, and those about him most excited, that the 
men of his company called him their Iron Man, and 
told how efficient he was, in directing the fire of some, 
in giving assistance to others whose pieces were out 
of order, and in speaking encouraging words to all, 
ever with "the same pleasant look in his face." 

"As to my own feelings," he said, in his home 
letter, " I can't describe them any more than I could 
when I tried before. They were much the same, only 
less in degree, as when we were marching into action 
at Roanoke. I was thoroughly excited internally, and 
every nerve was tense; but I can't accuse myself of 
any tendency to avoid the danger I felt, or even of 
dodsine bullets, as I have heard that most men invol- 
untarily do when they are first under fire. This ex- 
citement of nerves continued until the action fairly 
commenced, and then seemed to wear off rapidly, until, 
after we had been engaged a few minutes, I felt as 
cool, and, I thought then, as natural as ever. It 
couldn't have been natural, though; for I have been 
shocked since to think how little I cared for the poor 
fellows that were wounded. The reason, I suppose, 
that the danger ceased to affect me was, that I had 
something more important to occupy my mind. I 



SENSATIONS UNDER FIRE. 65 

thought of it, of course, but was too busy to pay any 
attention to it." 

In another letter, describing the battle to his friend 
Owen, he said: 

"The sensation of coming under fire is, to me, 
very much like that I used to feel in boat-racing,— 
exceedingly nervous business waiting for the signal to 
give way, but comfortable enough as soon as there is 
an opportunity to work off the surplus excitement. 
How a bayonet charge or a repulse of cavalry might 
seem, I cannot tell; but there has been nothing in 
such work as has fallen to us hitherto, more exciting 
than there was for the oarsmen in one of our grand 
boat-races between Harvard and Yale." 

The bridge across the Trent being burned by the 
Confederates, there was a delay of some hours in trans- 
porting the troops of Foster's brigade, on gunboats, to 
the city bank of the river. Late in the afternoon, the 
Tenth marched through the streets of New-Berne to 
the old Fair Grounds, and, taking possession of the 
just deserted camp of the Thirty-third North Carolina 
Regiment, made ready for a night of rest. Not many 
officers would speak as cheerfully of a detail for guard- 
duty, under such circumstances, as did Lieutenant 
Camp when called upon that evening. 

"I was too tired," he said, "to spend much time 
looking about me, — was reflecting how nicely I should 
feel inside my blankets in about five minutes (it was 
now two or three hours after dark), and had just pulled 

5 



66 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

off my boots for the first time since I left the vessel, 
when the adjutant came in. 'You'll have to put them 
on again,' said he. ' You are detailed, with thirty 
men from your company, to do provost guard-duty. 
Can you stand it ? ' It was rather tough after two 
such days; but I was less tired than most of the rest. 
I find that my endurance is greater than that of men 
who consider themselves tough. My old training 
stands me in good stead, and especially my habits of 
walking. I haven't yet been so tired by any march as 
not to feel equal to ten miles more, though I mightn't 
have been anxious to carry my overcoat and equip- 
ments along. But the men — I really hated to call out 
some of them, poor fellows ! hardly able to drag one 
foot after the other." 

This considerate regard for the men who were under 
him, showed itself in all his home letters, and also — to 
those who knew him well — in his conversation and 
actions. His quiet, undemonstrative ways prevented 
its being fully understood by all. His calm dignity 
of demeanor was not unfrequently deemed an indica- 
tion of coldness or hauteur. Never a greater mistake. 
His heart was far warmer, and his feelings kindlier, 
than could be judged from his modest reticence and 
his shrinking reserve of manner. 

At New-Berne, there was a long season of compar- 
ative quiet. As the spring months passed away, Camp 
grew restive. 

" Save me," he wrote, " from a summer in New- 



LIFE AT NEW-BERNE. 6j 

Berne, or any other one place. Our life, except when 
in active service, is mere machine-work, at best ; en- 
durable, even enjoyable, by way of preparation for 
something better, but, as a ' regular beverage,' alto- 
gether insipid and flat. Our wits grow rusty in this 
treadmill business, — that's the worst of it. I was 
beginning awhile ago [on the transport] to fear that 
the result of our campaigning would be in having 
more brains softened from within than perforated from 
without." 

Yet New-Berne life was not without its activities. 
Picketing in the face of the enemy was something new 
to the soldiers of the Tenth ; and there was an occa- 
sional alarm or skirmish on the outer lines, that gave 
zest to the service. Of the first march to the picket 
front, Camp wrote : — 

" All the negro huts in the outskirts sent out large 
delegations to the gates to watch us go by, evidently 
enjoying the sight hugely. One old woman stood in 
her doorway, beaming upon us most graciously, and 
addressing us as we came opposite, ' I hopes you is all 
well, genlin,' getting a volley of answers from our men." 

It was on one of the earlier tours of picket-duty that 
Camp's coolness and courage stood out prominently 
in an emergency. Another lieutenant had taken out 
a scouting-party of a dozen men, beyond the lines, to 
obtain information, and, if possible, to pick up a pris- 
oner or two ; having been told by the negroes that 
small squads of the enemy sometimes came down to 



68 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

within a short distance of the Union position. While 
this party was out, Captain Otis and Lieutenant Camp 
were eating dinner in a cabin near the picket-reserve, 
" when suddenly," as Camp described it, " while we 
were enjoying our hoe-cake and bacon, two or three 
of the negroes in the cabin exclaimed in a low tone, 
' De Southerners comin' ! de Southerners comin' ! ' We 
seized our swords, which we had laid aside so as to 
eat with more comfort, and stepped to the door just as 
one of the cavalrymen dismounted from a horse, pant- 
ing and covered with sweat. ' Every one of your men,' 
said he, ' is killed or taken prisoner ! ' A glance showed 
that he did not refer, as one would naturally think, to 
our reserve across the way ; and we knew he must be 
speaking of the scouting-party. The affair had taken 
place, he said, a few minutes before, at a distance of 
two or three miles. The enemy were still advancing, — 
a large force of cavalry. He and two others had put 
their horses to speed, and escaped ; but all those on 
foot, and one or two of the mounted men, were either 
shot or taken. By this time, the other two came in 
sight, their horses on the full run. I half expected to 
see the rebels on their heels; but they drew rein, and 
came up to report. Their story was less alarming than 
that of the first, — who was, I think, the most frightened 
fellow I ever saw. They said our men had been sur- 
prised by a party of cavalry, and had taken to the 
woods. They had seen none killed or taken, though 
several volleys were fired,— couldn't be sure, however, 



VOLUNTEERING FOR A SCOUT. 69 

being hard pressed themselves, and only saved by the 
speed of their horses and the poor aim of the enemy. 
We saw that we ourselves were in no danger; and the 
reserve, which had been called to arms, was dismissed." 

It was no slight evidence of character, for a young 
lieutenant, inexperienced in border warfare, to rise at 
once above the influences of a picket alarm, at that 
stage of the war, and propose to go out, in the face of 
the enemy, to the rescue of his endangered comrades. 
Lieutenant Camp's impulse prompted him to an instant 
suggestion of this kind. 

" I thought," he wrote, "that a party ought to be 
sent out immediately to find our men, who were prob- 
ably in the woods, not daring to retake the road until 
they were certain that the enemy had retired. Cap- 
tain Otis finally said, that, if the men chose to volun- 
teer, he wouldn't object." Volunteers being called for, 
eight men of the Tenth came promptly forward. Be- 
sides these, four of the horsemen — artillerymen acting 
as cavalry — were induced to go along as advance 
skirmishers ; and Camp started at once on his scout. 
His cavalry did not please him. " Their failing, cer- 
tainly, wasn't lack of vigilance. They walked their 
horses, with revolvers drawn, and one eye cocked 
over the shoulder, ready to run. My men," he added, 
with pride in the brave fellows, " would have marched 
straight upon Goldsborough, if I had only asked them 
to." The enterprise was entirely successful. The 
scattered party were found, a few at a time, until there 



yO THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

was but one missing and unaccounted for. "As there 
then was no more than time to go back before sunset, 
it seemed unwise to wait any longer ; and we returned, 
having at length accomplished what we went out for. 
It was dark when we reached the reserve ; and they 
had begun to grow anxious about us, having expected 
us back hours before. The other man came in the 
next morning, having spent the night in the woods. 
The whole thing ended much better than any of us 
anticipated." 

In the full and free sketches of such exploits as this, 
in his home letters, never a boastful word is found of 
his own performance, although praise is given heartily 
to all who were with him, and did well. His modesty 
equaled his courage and his nobleness. 

Each new call upon his energies seemed to give 
Camp fresh satisfaction in his work. " I am contented 
now," he wrote, " for the first time in three years. It 
doesn't seem as if the old fret ever need come back, — 
perhaps it will." Then, as showing that his heart was 
in no degree weaned from the loved ones at home, he 
added, " I never realized before, as I do now, the dif- 
ference between a dear old New England home and 
the rest of the world. I long to see you all, — you 
know how, — but not enough to wish to leave unfinished 
that which we came to do. I want to see a workman- 
like job made of it, — no botch-work. I want to help 
put in the last touches, and then won't we all be glad 
to come back ? You know how I felt about it when 



LIVING TO A PURPOSE. J I 

I left home: I feel just so now. I have always been 
glad that I came, and think, whether I return or not, 
that I always shall be." 

In response to the suggestion, from home, that he 
ought to be satisfied with going into danger when he 
was ordered there, he wrote : — 

" As to volunteering, its being my duty simply to 
obey orders, etc., — I am sure, when you think of it, 
that you would have me do as much, not as little, as 
possible. I certainly won't run any unnecessary risks, 
— risks which it is not necessary that somebody should 
run ; but, when there is work to be done, I want to 
do it. That, you know, was the idea with which I 
started, and the more opportunity I have to carry it 
into practice, the more I shall feel as though I were 
accomplishing my object. If men are sent where they 
should not be, the more need they have of officers to 
lead them through with as little loss as possible, and 
neutralize a blunder, if it is a blunder, by all the means 
which can be used. For my own sake, as well as for 
yours, — and that I may accomplish the more, — I in- 
tend to be prudent, and do nothing fool-hardy, or that 
my calm judgment doesn't approve. What it does, I 
know you would not have me avoid." 

Henry Camp wished to live to a purpose, and, if he 
must die, to die to a purpose. His desire was to be 
where he could accomplish most for the cause that 
had his heart. He did not seek his own advancement. 
He did not crave a place of danger. But he was never 



J2 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

content, except at the post of duty ; and he longed for 
that to be just where his every blow would be most 
effective for the right. Referring to unimportant 
scouts from New-Berne, and to trifling engagements 
on the picket-line, he said, — 

" There would be no satisfaction at all in being shot 
or captured in one of these miserable little skirmishes 
where neither side could possibly gain anything worth 
a single life, — a very different thing from falling in 
battle." 

Again he wrote : 

"I should like to have a share in the grand blows 
of the Army of the East. Our out-of-the-way per- 
formances, down here, don't seem to amount to much 
by themselves ; and yet we've had sharp work, — it's 
no exaggeration to say so. The list of casualties 
looks small alongside of what you read of in the great 
battles of the West ; yet, when you come to compare 
the numbers engaged, we lost as many in four hours 
at New-Berne as they did in two days at Pittsburg 
Landing, or in three at Fort Donelson, — as large a 
percentage, I mean, of course." 

Later, when General McClellan's Peninsular cam- 
paign was at its height, he wrote in the same strain: 

" We groan in spirit at having to stay here idle while 
the fight at Richmond is so fierce, every man needed, 
— every man there worth a hundred elsewhere. Noth- 
ing else that the war can bring forth will furnish cause 
for so proud a satisfaction as to have thrown one's 



LONGING TO BE SERVICEABLE. 73 

weight into the scale while the balance yet trembled. 
What is left to do will be boys' play in comparison, — 
as has been all before on this side the Alleghanies. 
When the race is won, there's nothing like feeling that 
you pulled a good oar on the home stretch." Then, 
as showing his real interest in hard service, he added, 
" I don't want to fight for the sake of fighting, but for 
the sake of accomplishing something that will tell 
upon the grand result." For that grand result he was 
ready to toil or to suffer, or willing, if need be, to wait. 
"I have chosen," he said, "the sphere in which I think 
I can work most efficiently for God and my Country; 
and, if we have thirty years' war instead of three, I 
expect to see it through, — or as much of it as comes 
in my lifetime." 






CHAPTER V. 

CAMP LIFE AND CAMPAIGNING. 

iHERE were thrilling incidents in war life 
at the South, apart from those of battle. 
Camp's experiences and observations 
among the freed slaves at New-Berne 
gave point to many a home letter from 
him, and were much in his thought. His descriptions 
in this sphere were as vivid as those of his battle life. 

"Did I tell you," he wrote, "about the family of 
fugitives that came in while we were out on picket? 
I was on duty at the time. One of the men called me, 
saying that some one wished to pass our lines. I 
came to the post where they had been stopped, and 
there were two negro women with a swarm of little 
things, — one or two in their arms; one or two, hardly 
big enough to walk, carrying others. They had come 
five miles that night; their masters intended to send 
them up country the next day ; they had got wind of 
it, and seized the only chance of escape. I asked how 
74 



AN INSIDE VIEW OF SLAVERY. 75 

many children they had. ' She have four head, and I 
four.' (So many head, — that's the way these darkies 
talk.) I don't see how they could have done it; little 
barefooted toddlers ! — some of them, trotting along in 
their nightgowns as if they had j ust come out of a warm 
bed, instead of having tramped five miles in the cold 
and dark ; but there wasn't one of them whimpering, or 
making the least fuss about it, — poor little things ! I 
didn't keep them long with questions, — passed them, 
of course; but advised them, now that they were safe 
within our lines, to spend the rest of the night in a 
deserted house near by, and so they did. Their mis- 
tress, a widow of strong secesh sympathies, came into 
town next day. ' She wanted to see General Foster.' 
I don't know what was the object or result of the in- 
terview; but I think it safe to say, she didn't get back 
the runaways." 

Another of his stories concerning this class of peo- 
ple was published at the time in the Hartford Evening 
Press, and copied widely : 

" I was in a negro house yesterday, and had some 
conversation with the inmates. I asked one gray- 
headed old negress if she had ever had children sold 
away from her. ' Sold ! dey all sold ! chil'en an' 
gran'chil'en an' great-gran'chil'en, — dey sell ebry one!' 
She clasped her bony hands over her head, and looked 
up at me as she spoke, ' Dere was one — de lass one — 
de on'y gran'chile I did hab lef. He neber knowed 
his mammy. I took him when he dat little. I bringed 



j6 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

him up to massa, an' I say, " Massa, dis my little gran'- 
chile: may I keep him 'bout heah ? " An' he says, 
" I don' care what you do wid him." So I take him; 
he dat little. Den one mornin', when he all rolled up 
in blanket 'tween my knees, Massa Green com'd in, 
an' say, " Dis boy sold;" and dey take him 'way! O 
Lord Jesus, help me pray!' 

" I can't begin to do justice to the way in which she 
told me this, nor describe the earnestness of voice and 
gesture which made it impressive. I wish some of 
our Northern editors, who cringe just as abjectly as 
ever before their old masters, and howl in such con- 
sternation whenever it seems likely that the war may 
interfere, directly or indirectly, with their pet devil- 
try, — I wish some of them could have heard and 
seen her. 

" I made further inquiries about the old woman's 
grandchild. He is now, it seems, somewhere near 
Raleigh. She seemed wonderfully comforted when I 
told her that we meant to go up there by and by, and 
I hoped we should find him. She seemed to take it 
in the light of a promise; and I heard her, just before 
I went out, saying to herself, ' Bress de Lord ! — bress 
de Lord ! I shall see my gran'chile again ! ' Poor old 
creature! I hope she won't be disappointed." 

Then, as expressive of his own views of the " pet 
deviltry," he added : 

"It can't be but that this war will kill slavery; and 
if it does, cost what it will of our blood, and your 



FIGHTING FOR GOVERNMENT. "/J 

tears, and every man's money, it won't be too much. 
Don't you think so ? I know you do. Not that I've 
changed my ideas as to the ultimate object of the war; 
but I am more firmly convinced than ever that the 
destruction of slavery is one of the means indispensa- 
ble to the end." 

His "ideas as to the ultimate object of the war" 
were fully set forth on a later occasion. He longed 
and hoped and prayed for the end of slavery. He 
fought for government as a divinely ordained power. 
His sympathies were with the cause of universal free- 
dom. His work of war was for the maintenance of 
law and order, — "Work," he said, "which I am as sure 
that God approves as I am sure that he designs to 
have order and law prevail throughout the universe 
over chaos and anarchy." 

"What on earth have I said," he added, "to give 
you the idea that I am fighting, not for the Govern- 
ment, but the abolition of slavery ? Exactly the 
reverse. It is the maintenance of the Government that 
I consider the object, and the only object of the war; 
abolition, one of the means, but no more. I think as 
ill of slavery as you do : I believe, with you, that it is 
the cause of the rebellion, and that it must be crushed 
wherever rebellion exists; but I fight for the preserva- 
tion of the Republic, not for the abolition of slavery, 
because I consider the former the nobler and more 
important object, — the object for which the latter is but 
a means. Strike at the root, you say. Yes; but why ? 



78 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

Because the poisonous growth is killing that which it 
is my highest aim to keep alive and flourishing. It is 
not always the cause of an evil that must be made the 
great object of an attack in remedying its effects. 

" Government is the human embodiment of law, and 
law is the central idea of the universe. ' Liberty for 
ever and for all,' is a taking watchword ; and a thou- 
sand will catch it up as the expression of their highest 
aim, where one will adopt the far higher and nobler 
one of universal law. Among free moral agents, per- 
fect liberty involves inevitable abuse, incalculable sin 
and suffering. Perfect law would be the acquiescence 
of all in God's plans, — the unquestioned supremacy of 
his will. Of the two abstractions, therefore, I choose 
the latter; and, when they become embodied in ma- 
terial forms for which a man can fight, I will fight for 
the Republic — which is the concrete expression, how- 
ever imperfect, of the higher — rather than for the 
emancipation of four million negroes, which is the 
corresponding outgrowth of the lower. 

"As to the soundness or unsoundness of the Ad- 
ministration, my action is independent of it. Govern- 
ment and the ideas behind it — the Nation and its 
republican institutions — are what I fight for, not 
Abraham Lincoln or his advisers. There's nobody 
that I dislike more than a young old fogy. I don't 
think I'm in any danger of being generally so con- 
sidered ; but, if public opinion does run wild, I sha'n't 
try to keep up with it. It will settle back again by 



WORDS OF CHRISTIAN COUNSEL. 79 

and by. We shall see whether I am behind it ten 
years from now." 

It was during the spring and summer in New-Berne 
that Camp wrote most of those letters to his college 
classmate, which are referred to, in the earlier pages 
of this volume, as being so richly blessed to their re- 
cipient. There is, perhaps, nothing remaining of his 
writings, more clearly expressive of his religious views 
and convictions than the subjoined extracts from those 
letters : 

" I am glad to hear from you, which is the next 
best thing to seeing you," he wrote, in his first of the 
series, " and still more glad to hear that your interest 
in religious subjects still continues. You know I 
never could say what I wanted to say. I am afraid I 
shall find it even more difficult to write what I want 
to write. I am rejoiced that you find yourself making 
progress, — that you have conquered the theoretical 
difficulties which formerly troubled you ; and yet, I 
cannot but fear, from what you say, that you have 
paused before still more serious obstacles. As far as 
intellectual conviction of the truth and excellence of 
Christianity goes, a man can carry himself, — though I 
think I can see the hand of God leading you, uncon- 
sciously perhaps to yourself even there; but, beyond 
that, comes a barrier which cannot be passed without 
one's earnest call for and acceptance of help from 
above, voluntarily sought, and freely given. 

" I think I know exactly what you mean when you 



80 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

say you have not interest enough in the matter to pray, 
I used to feel the same. I do still, far oftener than I 
ought, or wish to ; but there are other times when I 
wonder at myself, when I seem to realize, in some faint 
degree, the real and infinite importance of these things, 
and when it seems to me strange that I can take any 
interest, comparatively, in other matters. I wish I 
knew how to present the motives to a Christian life as 
they appear to me then. Passing by, for the present, 
those of reward and punishment, considered merely 
as such, let us look for a moment at another, — one 
which has often struck me with great force, and must, 
I think, have weight with a mind constituted like your 
own. 

"We are just at the commencement of a life with 
which this one compares only as time compares with 
eternity; whose interests are to those of the present 
as the infinite to the finite. Admitting the truth of 
the Christian religion, its hearty and thorough accept- 
ance is the only preparation we can now make for this 
future; and the entrance upon a real Christian life is 
the entrance upon the first stage of progress toward 
all that is worthy to be made an end to a reasoning 
and immortal being, — all, in short, that is worthy of a 
man. It is at this point that we must, at some time, 
start, if we are ever to take up earnestly the pursuit 
of the highest good, if we are ever to enter upon the 
life of truest manliness. Until we have reached this, 
we are living to no real purpose; we have not com- 



A MANS HIGHEST IDEAL. 81 

menced the work which is to be the work of our 
existence. Is it worth while to live for anything less? 
Are not our energies, in effect, wasted, unless we de- 
vote them, not only to that which is noble and excel- 
lent, but to that which is noblest and most excellent? 
And is not every day lost until we begin to act up to 
this belief? 

" Surely there is no ideal which one can set before 
himself higher than that of a life whose mainspring is 
duty, — with all that seems hard and cold in that word 
softened and warmed by a love that turns trial and 
difficulty into joy : the same feeling which makes pleas- 
ant a service rendered to a dear earthly friend intensi- 
fied, as is fitting, toward Him who has done and suf- 
fered more for us than we can ever comprehend, until 
we see him face to face and know him even as we are 
known. Is there not something in this to rouse an 
earnest man to vigorous effort ? something worth striv- 
ing for with the whole soul ? Then, why wait for feel- 
ing ? It will not come at the bidding of the will. Why 
not enter at once upon the course which understand- 
ing and conscience approve ? Why not obey them in 
this, as you would in anything else? 

" Just here comes a difficulty. He who resolves to 
do this just as he may have resolved to carry out 
former purposes, — by the force of his own determina- 
tion, relying upon that and that alone, — inevitably 
fails. He may live a moral life, a philanthropic life, 
one which gains for him the highest respect and esteem 

6 



82 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

of his fellow-men ; but when he comes to compare it 
with the strict requirements of God's law, he finds the 
standard too high, hopelessly beyond his reach, though 
he spends life in the effort to attain it. The longer he 
tries in this way, the lower he falls. There is nothing 
left but an utter abandonment of trust in one's own 
exertions, and a simple leaning on Christ for his sup- 
port, his aid in living a life of obedience to his will, and 
his pardon for all its thousand imperfections. He 
stands ready ; only ' knock, and it shall be opened 
unto you.' 

" I think you strike the key-note of your difficulties, 
when you say, ' I have hitherto relied solely upon my- 
self That is what keeps you at a stand-still, the effort 
' to solve the problem ' for yourself. It is hard to give 
it up, — hard to bend one's pride to the acknowledg- 
ment of weakness and dependence. The way is nar- 
row ; but unless we become as little children in our 
humility, there is no entrance for us into the kingdom 
of heaven. So far from being really a degradation, it 
is the highest test of true nobility of soul, that it should 
be willing to take the place which God created it for, — 
the highest privilege to come into harmony with his 
great system, to enjoy his direct and conscious per- 
sonal influence, to feel the joy of his approval. 

" I am afraid I have preached you more of a sermon 
than you will care to read ; but I have spoken plainly 
and earnestly, because it is to a dear friend. How I 
should rejoice to know that you had at length found 



CALL TO A CHRISTIAN DECISION. 83 

what you have sought and your friends have sought 
for you ! It is now some years that I have remem- 
bered you in my prayers ; with such encouragement, 
I certainly shall not now forget you : but do pray for 
yourself. Don't fall into the mistake of thinking that 
you must wait for a certain degree of feeling. If you 
feel that you need God's help, and are willing to ask 
for it, that is enough. He is more willing to give than 
you to receive, if you will only be persuaded to prove 
for yourself the truth of all these things." 

Again he wrote: " It is encouraging to know that 
you feel a growth in your moral nature, come in what 
shape it will ; but I cannot judge from what you say 
whether you have reached, or are still on this side of, 
the point which must be passed before any radical and 
permanent change for the better can fairly commence. 
One may stroll forever on the ground outside the nar- 
row gate, receding or advancing, — even till his hand is 
upon the latch ; but, until he enters, his journey along 
the true path is yet to begin. 

" I want to believe that your decision has been made, 
not merely to experiment awhile, but, relying upon 
God's help, to make your life henceforth no longer 
your own, but his. Then, however feeble your faith, 
it will increase ; however slowly you move, it will be 
in the right direction. Love, as you say, will grow 
with time and the experience of God's goodness ; cul- 
ture will produce its effects. I do hope that it is so 
with you ; and that the doubts and misgivings of which 



84 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

you speak will vanish with the steady increase of light 
in your soul. But don't think, though you should 
remain stationary, or even go backward, that you have 
proved whether there is ' anything in it' Be sure that 
the difficulty is in yourself, and that it is as impossible 
that God should refuse to hear and help one who comes 
to him in sincerity and humility, as that he should 
cease to exist. The universe shall sink into annihila- 
tion before his word shall fail." 

When, at length, there came a letter giving full 
assurance of faith, on the part of the friend in whom 
he had been so deeply interested, Camp replied : — 

" So you have finally entered upon a Christian life. 
You do not know, my dear fellow, how glad I am to 
hear it, both on your own account, and my own, if I 
have been, in any degree, of assistance to you. You 
will know, I hope, some time, when one for whom you 
have so sincere a friendship takes the same step which 
you have taken, — one which I am sure you will rejoice 
in, more and more, the longer you live." 

It is noteworthy evidence of his rarest humility and 
modesty, that Camp, in writing to his home of the 
coming to Christ of this friend whom he had been 
leading with such fidelity and prayerfulness, mentions 
several who might have had an influence for good over 
his classmate, without saying a word of his own agency 
in the matter ; but the .record is on high, and all the 
world shall know it, " when the dead, small and great, 
stand before God, and the books are opened." 



LIFE IN HOSPITAL. 85 

Exposure, on guard and picket, to the malarial at- 
mosphere of the North Carolina nights, brought Camp 
down with chills and fever during the summer months ; 
and again an attack of jaundice confined him in the 
hospital. His sole anxiety seems then to have been 
lest he should miss some active service with his regi- 
ment, or disturb his friends at home by fears as to his 
condition. " I went down to the hospital," he wrote, 
" partly to consult Dr. Douglass, and partly to see if 
they had any cherries left, — no more idea of staying 
there than of cutting up any other foolish caper ; but 
once there, and they had me. Dr. Douglass said stay, 
and stay it was. So I am luxuriating again on a mat- 
tress, between cotton sheets. I tell you about my play- 
ing sick, because I suppose I must, to fulfil literally 
my part of our compact; but you mustn't suppose 
there is anything to speak of the matter with me, be- 
cause there isn't." 

His stay in hospital was, however, for several weeks, 
and the confinement was irksome to him. " It is quiet 
enough, up at camp," he said; "but you know that, 
there, there are drills, though you may not go out to 
them; and there are forty little things to discuss, — 
whether the colonel was exactly right in the order he 
gave, and whose fault this or that blunder was, and 
how this or that little matter of company business is 
to be settled. Here it is, ' How do you feel this 
morning ? ' 'Anybody die last night ? ' ' Doctor been 
around yet?' And after he has, and prescribed the 



86 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

dose for the day, that is about all, until night, when 
bedtime comes." 

Speaking of reported orders for a move of the regi- 
ment, he added: "Wouldn't I be provoked to have to 
stay here, and have them leave me ? It would be 
worse than Roanoke." To his bitter sorrow, the 
orders came; and the surgeon positively forbade his 
accompanying the expedition, telling him he could 
not go five miles before he would have to be brought 
back. In his disappointment, he said: "Here I have 
been impatient to get away, and do something, fret- 
ting at long idleness, ready for a start any day until 
now ; and now the time comes, the move is made, and 
I am fast. If I were really sick, down with a fever, 
laid up with a broken leg, or anything of that sort, 
there would be some satisfaction in it: I should know 
I was helpless, and make up my mind to it. But to 
be tied down by this miserable little bilious difficulty, 
— to be upset by such a thing as this, — I feel like some 
great lubber who has been thrashed by a youngster 
half his size, and sneaks off into a corner to hide him- 
self. It's more of a disappointment to me than you 
will probably imagine." 

But the orders for his regiment were counter- 
manded. General Burnside left for the Army of the 
Potomac, taking with him Generals Parke and Reno, 
and their commands, constituting the newly formed 
Ninth Army Corps; while General Foster remained 
in command of the district of North Carolina, retain- 



LONGING FOR A FRIEND. 87 

ing his old brigade, with some additions to it. In the 
reorganization of the troops, the Tenth was brigaded 
with the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, the Ninth New 
Jersey, and the Fifth Rhode Island regiments, under 
gallant Colonel (afterwards General) Stevenson, of the 
Twenty-fourth Massachusetts. 

In one of Camp's letters from the hospital is a para- 
graph worthy of special note in this memoir, prepared 
by one subsequently his intimate friend, but not as yet 
his army comrade. "I have been reading Captain 
Vicars's Life this afternoon, for the first time. He 
was the right man in the right place,— just such a one 
as one or two whom I know could be, and only one 
or two. Memoirs like his, and others of his stamp, 
don't affect me as they ought to. Such men are too 
far out of common sight: I am wretchedly uncom- 
fortable when I read of them,— that is all. I wish I 
could get hold of a life of some fellow like myself, if 
there ever was one, — which I honestly don't believe, 
— and see how he turned out. But no, — catch any 
such memoir as that being given to the public ! 

" One of the chief, perhaps the chief, privations of 
being away from home, is the having no intimate 
friend, — no one with whom to talk freely ; being shut 
up within one's self. There are few who would allow 
themselves to be so, but you know I have no social 
qualities about me. I am very particular : there are 
only one or two in a hundred whom I would have for 
friends anyhow, and those one or two I haven't the 



88 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

faculty of gaining; and the result is that I am as 
solitary as the Sphinx. How I should enjoy the right 
fellow for a chum ! " Why this connection of thought? 
Did he know instinctively, that, if he had an intimate 
friend who should outlive him, that friend would give 
his life-story to the public ? 

In July, 1862, Camp was advanced to a first lieu- 
tenancy, and put in command of Company D, which 
he greatly improved by his firm and judicious dis- 
cipline, during the few weeks he had charge of it. On 
the 5th of August he was promoted to the adjutancy 
of the regiment; a position more congenial to his 
tastes and acquirements than that of subaltern in the 
line. His first experience with a consolidated report 
will be appreciated by any one who has had the 
responsibility of such a mass of perplexing figures: 

" I finished a copy of the consolidated monthly re- 
turn, — the principal one, — Tuesday afternoon, and 
carried it down to headquarters, immensely rejoiced 
to have it done with. About an hour afterward, up 
came an orderly to my tent, 'Adjutant Camp's report 
is respectfully returned for correction.' I was thunder- 
struck, to speak moderately. Hadn't I added those 
figures lengthwise and crosswise, vertically, horizon- 
tally, diagonally, spherically, and miscellaneously ? — 
got 'em at length so that it would have done old 
Daboll good to look over the columns? I thought 
so; but, come to examine the work again, there were 
two mistakes for which the serjeant-major at whose 



A NEW CHAPLAIN. 89 

dictation I had copied, was responsible, and one of my 
own. It didn't take fifteen minutes to straighten them 
out ; but I was vexed to think that my first perform- 
ance should have been a boggle. However, it did me 
good to find out that the adj utants of the Twenty-fifth 
and Twenty-seventh, both old hands at the business, 
had blundered in theirs too; so I wasn't alone. I 
don't intend to be caught again, though." 

A week after Camp was appointed adjutant, Chap- 
lain Hall — his friend and college classmate — resigned, 
and left the regiment. It was thus that Camp wrote 
home of Hall's successor : 

"I wonder if you know, by this time, whom we are 
probably going to have as chaplain. If you don't, 
you'll be very glad to hear it, though you'd never 
guess in the world, — Henry Clay Trumbull. I can't 
think of any man I ever knew whom I should be so 
well pleased to have accept it. ... I am selfish about 
it, too: the chaplain and I, both being members of the 
staff, will see a great deal of each other, and be thrown 
much together." 

Chaplain Trumbull, whose coming was so pleasantly 
anticipated by Adjutant Camp, reached the regiment 
early in October. The two comrades, ordinary friends 
before, were speedily drawn into closest intimacy. 
Away from home, they craved personal sympathy. 
Their tastes were similar. Their characters were suf- 
ficiently unlike to be in harmony. The training of each 
was such that he possessed what the other deemed his 



9<D THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

lack. One had a finely cultured, richly stored mind ; 
the other a fund of personal experience. The opinions 
of the one were all formed from the study of under- 
lying principles ; the judgments of the other were 
based upon practical observations. Their regimental 
duties kept them near each other. Their home friends 
being side by side, they were linked in every interest. 

It was after a sacred communion service in the 
Presbyterian Church at New-Berne, at which Adjutant 
Camp was the only officer present with the chaplain 
from their regiment, that, in a midnight talk, they 
opened their hearts to each other, and entered upon 
that life of peculiar oneness which was so marked to 
all who, thenceforward, saw them together. Like 
Jonathan and David, when they "had made an end of 
speaking," at that time, "the soul of the one was knit 
with the soul of the other." They "made a covenant, 
because each loved the other as his own soul." 

During the month of October, 1862, General Foster 
was largely reinforced by nine-months' regiments from 
Massachusetts. Of these, the Forty- fourth was added 
to Colonel Stevenson's brigade, and soon became a 
favorite with the old troops of the command. It was 
composed of choice material, including many students 
from Harvard. Pleasant acquaintances were made 
among the officers and men of the newly associated 
battalions. 

On the 30th of October, Stevenson's brigade left 
New-Berne on transports for Little Washington, the 



THE TARBO ROUGH SCOUT. 9 1 

Tenth accompanying General Foster, on his own boat, 
the Pilot Boy. At the same time, a column moved 
overland to Washington, whence an expedition set out 
for Tarborough on Sunday morning, November 2, the 
Tenth leading, for the day, the infantry advance. 
Before night had fairly shut in, the enemy was found 
posted in the woods, just beyond a troublesome ford 
at Little Creek, a short distance below Williamston, 
opening fire on the approaching skirmishers of the 
Tenth. The latter, reinforced by a portion of the 
Forty-fourth, charged across the stream, and drove 
out the rebels, capturing several prisoners of the 
Twenty -sixth North Carolina Regiment, of which 
Governor Vance was the first colonel. 

This was the first engagement in which Camp acted 
as adjutant, and thus was brought into prominence 
before all the regiment. His courageous bearing won 
warm praise from the men, as, by the side of brave 
Colonel Pettibone, he pressed forward in the charge 
over the creek, through the shower of bullets and the 
sweep of grape from the enemy in unknown force in 
the thicket beyond. "I never knew what Adjutant 
Camp was until that night," said a sergeant, long after- 
ward. " I saw his face was pale, as if he understood 
the danger [the soldier knows the difference between 
the bloodless cheek of determination and the pallor 
of cowardice]; and he looked just as if he was ready 
to go anyzvhere, as he ran along on that log foot-bridge, 
and cheered on the men, while they splashed through 



92 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the water, with the bullets all about them. I always 
liked him after that." 

The enemy was pursued rapidly to Rawl's Mills, 
where, at midnight, General Foster brought up his 
artillery to a commanding hill-crest, and rained shot 
and shell upon the retreating column. After an ex- 
hausting day of twenty-two hours of activity, the 
troops bivouacked that night in the clear moonlight, 
on the soft clay of the captured line of works. The 
next morning, Williamston was entered without oppo- 
sition, the enemy having evacuated it during the night, 
and most of the citizens having fled, terror-stricken, 
from their homes. As the head of the incoming 
column reached a principal street-corner of the well- 
nigh deserted town, a party of Jack-tars from the 
Union gunboats which had just come up the Roanoke 
River gave an unexpected greeting to the army, by 
singing the stirring song, " We'll rally round the flag, 
boys ! " and roused the enthusiasm of the soldiers to 
the highest pitch. 

During the halt of several hours in the village, there 
was, in spite of every effort to prevent it, much of reck- 
less pillaging and wanton destruction of private prop- 
erty by the soldiers; although no violence or insult 
was offered any person. Everything eatable was, of 
course, seized at once ; and at each street corner, and 
in each back-yard, pork, poultry, and beef were being 
cooked in the most primitive style, at fires kindled 
from the convenient fence-palings, or articles of house- 



AT WILLIAMSTON AND BEYOND. 93 

hold furniture. The few families who remained seemed 
doubtful if even their lives were to be spared by the 
supposed bloodthirsty Yankees ; and it was with dif- 
ficulty that some, whose homes were, from the first, 
specially guarded against intrusion, could be induced 
to refrain from loud shrieks for mercy, or made to 
believe that no harm was intended them, and that no 
injury would be done their property. The empty 
cradle from which a sick child had been hurried away 
at the risk of its life, and the cot from which a con- 
sumptive patient had been borne out beyond the limits 
of the town, in the cold night air, at his own earnest 
request, as pointed out by those who knew the story 
of both, touched the hearts of the Union officers, and 
showed to all how thoroughly misunderstood in the 
Southern community was the purpose of the Federal 
army. 

Passing on from Williamston, the column rested for 
the night in an extensive cornfield of hundreds of 
broad acres, presenting a scene of peculiar picturesque- 
ness, — a fire-lit bivouac of thousands of armed men, 
with no seeming limit to the stretch of blazing piles 
and clustered groups and flashing weapons and mov- 
ing forms, all overhung by the illumined smoke-clouds, 
with the glimmering stars beyond. 

The next day, the column pressed on to Rainbow 
Fort, a substantial earthwork on a high bluff above 
Roanoke River, flanking the position, so that it was 
evacuated in hot haste; thence to Hamilton, and across 



94 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the country to Tar River, to the suburbs of Tar- 
borough. Returning to Hamilton, and again to Wil- 
liamston, it moved down to Jamesville, and on to 
Plymouth, where it took transports to New-Berne; 
reaching its old base after an absence of two weeks, 
having marched more than a hundred miles, and 
moved more than four hundred by water. 

In illustration of the truth, familiar to every soldier, 
that inaction causes far more complaint and discon- 
tent than the severest service in campaigning, Camp 
wrote, in one of his letters from Little Washington, on 
this expedition: 

"We are all enjoying the return to active service. 
Officers and men alike are more cheerful than for a 
long time past. More enthusiasm has lain concealed 
beneath a crust of grumbling complaints and talk of 
resignation than I had any idea of. We need work, — 
that's all, — to keep us good-natured. Ice freezes thick 
over most men's patriotism when it is dammed up, so 
that it seems to have utterly vanished. Only open the 
sluiceways once in a while, and the current, deep as 
ever, sweeps it away in a twinkling, and again runs 
free and strong." 

The expedition to Tarborough was novel in its 
nature, partaking, in many features, of the general 
character of Sherman's march through Georgia. There 
was the same cutting loose from the base of supplies, 
the depending on the surrounding country for sub- 
sistence, the moving through a tract hitherto unreached 



LAWLESS FORAGING. 95 

by the devastations of war, the entering one town after 
another and quartering on its inhabitants, the visiting 
and emptying of richly stored plantations and elegantly 
furnished private dwellings, the seizure of horses and 
cattle for Government use, and the gathering of slaves 
to give them freedom in a new home. And there was 
the same inevitable lawlessness among the men having 
part in such an expedition. Passing a farm-house, 
they would dart from the ranks to seize a fowl or to 
gather a cap full of eggs, to bring back a pail of sugar 
or of the demoralizing "apple-jack," or to bear off a 
well-filled hive, with "two bees to one honey," as they 
facetiously expressed it ; and in a twinkling they would 
ransack a dwelling from garret to cellar, making as 
great havoc with those things utterly useless to them- 
selves as with that which their appetites or personal 
comfort demanded. 

Camp entered heartily into all the legitimate excite- 
ments and enjoyments of the expedition. No one was 
more ready than he to have a run for live pork or 
poultry for the field and staff mess, or for company 
cooks, while all were dependent on what could thus 
be secured ; and no one took more delight than he in 
all that was picturesque or delightful in the surround- 
ing country. But he never forgot the dictates of 
honor or humanity. He aided in soothing alarmed 
households; he spoke kind words to the sorrowing; 
and, on one occasion, when he saw officers making 
sport of neatly tied locks of hair and other mementoes 



96 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

of the loved ones of a scattered family, preserved in a 
quarto dictionary, he watched his opportunity, and, 
securing the volume with its precious contents, hid it 
in a remote cupboard of the house, where probably 
it would not again be seen until the proper inmates 
returned to their home. 

The experiences of the expedition were widely 
varied — in weather, face of country, and duties of the 
hour. There were fair, bright days, and days and 
nights of cheerless storm, cold drenching rain, and 
even frost and a fall of snow. There were the low 
sand plains of the Southern coast ; and, inland, there 
were hills almost like New England, and dense woods, 
and fertile fields, and even clear purling brooks, as 
well as chocolate-colored rivers ; then there were 
North Carolina swamps. Who, that has ever passed 
through one of these, will fail to recognize the truth- 
fulness of Camp's description of it ? — 

" Perhaps mother knows what a Southern swamp is. 
I am sure the rest of you don't. You'll find a better 
description of it in ' Dred,' than I can give you ; but 
you can't realize the dismal abominations of it until 
you see them. For all that, it is pleasant enough to 
ride through them on a bright, cool morning. There is 
something grand in the dark impenetrability; and the 
huge pines that lift themselves out of it seem as if they 
could look down into all manner of inaccessible re- 
cesses and secret hiding-places, open only toward the 
sky. There is a great deal that is beautiful, even in 



SOUTHERN SCENERY. gf 

the midst of the swamp. Trees have a luxuriance of 
growth, and density of cool, fleshy, solid foliage, that 
you don't see at home. Even the same varieties have 
a larger leaf and thicker twigs, so that at first one 
hardly recognizes them. There are thousands of 
unfamiliar vegetable shapes, — vines, and shrubs, and 
bushes, with odd and beautiful leaves and flowers. I 
think, if I were a botanist (or still more, if I were an 
entomologist, though I haven't enlarged upon that 
subject), I shouldn't ask for anything more than a 
square rod of Southern swamp, to give me occupation 
for a year." 

One sunny morning, the road traveled by the column 
wound down a hill, through the woods, across a wide 
brook spanned by a rustic bridge. An old mill showed 
itself among the trees at the left. A gum-canoe floated 
near the bridge. The morning light struggled down 
through the branches of pine and cypress and moss- 
hung oaks. The bracing air of the morning was 
exhilarating to the now refreshed soldiers. The un- 
usual beauty of the spot and the influences of the hour 
impressed every beholder ; and, as the head of the first 
brigade reached the bridge, a Massachusetts regiment 
started the "John Brown" chorus. The next regi- 
ment at once caught up the strain, and it passed rapidly 
along the column, until the rich melody rolled up from 
thousands of glad voices, far up and down the wind- 
ing road, thrilling the nerves and stirring the soul of 
every participant and listener. Beyond the woods the 

7 



98 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

country opened into immense plains, showing the 
yellow corn, the rank sorghum, and the snow-flecked 
cotton-fields; while the plantation-house was in view, 
with its broad piazzas, its rear rows of negro shanties, 
its cotton-press and gin-house. At this point there 
was a halt; and the joyous singing was changed to no 
less universal and hearty cheering, as Major-General 
Foster, — the admired and beloved commander, — with 
his staff, rode through the open ranks to the extreme 
front. 

Camp enjoyed such an hour as that, as he did, also, 
the hour of social worship, when, around the blazing 
fire, officers and men of the regiment gathered at 
evening in the open field to sing and to pray, and to 
listen to God's word. One evening, at a bivouac near 
Plymouth, when the chaplain missed the adjutant for 
an hour, he ascertained that the latter, in crossing the 
field, had found a prayer-meeting of another regiment, 
and had stopped to enjoy its privileges and be refreshed 
by its influence. And at many a point, the quiet woods 
could tell how earnestly he pleaded with God in the 
morning and evening hour of private devotion. 

On the return of the troops from the Tarborough 
scout, Colonel Pettibone resigned command of the 
Tenth, and left for the North, Adjutant Camp accom- 
panying him on a brief leave of absence. The delights 
of that first visit home, after a year of separation, could 
not be better described than in the few telling lines 
which he wrote concerning it to his friend in camp : 



HOME ONCE MORE. 99 

" Once on the train which was to carry me straight 
home, steam seemed very slow. There was a con- 
stantly growing thrill of excitement, pleasant, yet with 
a dash of anxious pain. If then I were to meet or find 
anything amiss ! I was driven from the depot as near 
the house as I ventured to allow a carriage, lest its 
sound should betray my coming; walked softly, with 
feet that hardly felt the ground, past the cheerfully shin- 
ing windows, to the rear entrance ; noiselessly stepped 
along to the library door, and threw it open. There 
they were ! What was said or done I hardly know. 
Oh, the joy of that evening, and of every moment 
since! I wonder if you have ever been long enough 
away from those you loved to know it thoroughly." 

It was while Camp was at home at this time that 
General Foster made his celebrated Goldsborough 
Raid from New-Berne, in conjunction with Burnside's 
advance on Fredericksburg, fighting the battles of 
South-west Creek, Kinston, Whitehall, and Golds- 
borough. On this expedition, the Tenth Regiment 
had hard service and won dearly bought distinction, 
losing in twenty minutes more than a hundred men, 
with some of its best officers, in the fight at Kinston. 

Again Camp was deeply grieved at his loss of a 
share in the work of his regiment. Nothing had 
seemed more unlikely than such an expedition, at the 
time he went North ; and his surprise was a great as 
his disappointment, on returning to New-Berne, to find 
that his regiment had been some ten days away. He 



IOO THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

was at once in the saddle and on his way to overtake 
his command; but the column was already returning, 
and he met it but a few miles from the city. 

"So I am about a week too late," he wrote. "I 
would give more than that of life to have been in that 
bayonet charge. My absence from it, like that from 
the battle of Roanoke, — much more, even, — will be a 
life-long disappointment and regret. When the war 
is over, what shall I have done ? It is hard. ... I 
have nothing to rcproacJi myself with, only I feel like 
a man who has unfortunately lost a magnificent op- 
portunity." 

So keenly did he feel this disappointment, that when, 
shortly after, unusual promotion was tendered him, he 
positively refused it, preferring that it should advantage 
some one who had shared the perils of the recent ex- 
pedition. 

Burnside's Fredericksburg defeat depressed many 
in the army, as out of it; but Henry Camp never 
despaired of the cause which had his heart; nor did 
he admit the possibility of any course but one for 
government or people. 

"Has the North pluck enough to try it once more? " 
he wrote after his return to New-Berne. " Now is the 
time to try men. I am astonished at the way some 
of them talk. A man cannot help it if things look 
dark to him, — they do to me; but he can help slacken- 
ing effort, or talking in a way to slacken others. If 
every man would set his teeth, and walk straight up to 



WORTH DYING FOR. 1 01 

meet the ruin which he sees coming, it would vanish 
before he came within striking distance ; and, let worst 
come to worst, the nation could at least die with all 
its wounds in front. Better so than to sneak into its 
grave a few years later with scars on its back." 



m 




se 




CHAPTER VI. 



THE FIRST CHARLESTON EXPEDITION. 




NEW expedition was talked of. Troops 
were coming from Suffolk to New-Berne, 
and a naval fleet was gathering at Beau- 
fort. Wilmington was aimed at. The 
division to which the Tenth belonged was 
to remain behind. Adjutant Camp was so anxious to 
atone for what he deemed his recent loss of service, 
that he proposed to accompany the expedition on the 
staff of a commander of another division. But, at the 
last hour, the Tenth was ordered to move also, and 
Camp gladly remained with his regiment. 

The Tenth left New-Berne by railroad for Morehead 
City, Monday, January 26, 1863, and went on board a 
transport in Beaufort harbor the same day. The ex- 
pedition planned for Wilmington was, on account of 
the loss of the original " Monitor " and from other 
causes, turned to the department of the South. Its 
destination was known only to the commanding gen- 
102 



DEPARTMENT OF THE SOUTH. IO3 

eral, until the sailing orders were opened, after leaving 
the harbor, on Saturday morning. The trip to Port 
Royal was quickly and pleasantly made. The satisfac- 
tion on finding that Charleston was the point aimed at 
was general among the troops of the expedition ; and 
Camp expressed his unfeigned delight at the prospect 
of immediate participation in a movement against the 
nursery of disunion. 

An unfortunate difference between Generals Hunter 
and Foster, resulting in the return of the latter to 
North Carolina without his troops, was a cause of 
sad disappointment to those who were thus parted 
from the commander whom they loved and trusted 
without measure or question. The officers and men 
of the Tenth were peculiarly tried ; for they had been 
ordered off only at the last moment, with the assur- 
ance that they were to be away from camp not more 
than ten days, or at the outside a fortnight. They 
had left behind all camp and garrison equipage, regi- 
mental and company papers, personal baggage beyond 
what was necessary for a short tour of field-service, 
and even those officers and men who were not strong 
enough for a march and an immediate fight. 

The orderto land on St. Helena Island, opposite Hil- 
ton Head, and go into camp while thus circumstanced, 
was exceedingly unsatisfactory ; and it was by no means 
easy for them to have a home feeling, even as soldiers, 
while lacking so much that they had hitherto deemed 
essential to enjoyable camp life. But they adapted 



104 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

themselves as best they could to their situation ; and 
with the shelter-tents, of which they then first had 
experience, supplemented by the broad leaves of the 
palmetto, they soon had an attractive army settlement, 
with its embowered chapel, its hedged streets, and its 
neatly finished and ornamented quarters for officers 
and men. 

The long delay in waiting, with anxious and often 
deferred hope for active operations in the department, 
was not lost time to the troops of the expedition. They 
improved the passing days in perfecting their drill and 
discipline. Indeed, the Tenth Regiment never ap- 
peared better in drill, or on parade and review, than at 
St. Helena. It won the highest commendations from 
commanders who visited or reviewed it. Adjutant 
Camp did much, even in the subordinate position he 
then held, to maintain its character and advance its 
highest interests. Many who were there remember 
how he was called on by Lieutenant-Colonel Leggett 
one afternoon to conduct the battalion-drill, and how 
he performed his task. He had never before taken 
the battalion in hand. He had not for weeks even 
attended drill, — his services not being essential there, 
and neither field nor staff having horses with them, — 
nor had he five minutes' notice that he was to be 
pressed into the service. He said aside to his friend 
that he should have liked ten minutes to refresh his 
mind as to a few movements ; but he made no excuse 
to his commander. Stepping out to the parade- 



SUNDAY-SCHOOL WORK. 105 

ground, he relieved his seniors, the captains, and then 
for an hour and a half handled the regiment so easily 
and correctly, that the lieutenant-colonel — enthusi- 
astic and accomplished soldier as he was — said to 
him in the presence of others, that evening, that it 
was the finest battalion-drill that had been held on 
the island. 

Moreover, Camp was rarely absent from a religious 
service in the regiment ; and, although always loath at 
home to have his voice heard in public, he was now 
ready to share with the chaplain in the exercises of 
the camp prayer-meeting or the Sunday-school, and 
even to assume the conduct of either, in case of the 
illness of his friend, or when the latter was unavoid- 
ably kept away. His Sunday-school experiences, as 
he then described them, will not be deemed by all as 
peculiar to himself: 

" I don't know how to interest a class. I have im- 
proved somewhat in the ability to talk against time, 
though it horrifies me sometimes to take out my watch 
and find that I've got to make two verses last twenty 
minutes. But when it comes to drawing out others, 
getting them to interest themselves and to talk them- 
selves on the subject in question, I'm stumped." 

Again he wrote, when called to act as both super- 
intendent and teacher : 

"Sunday-school was in the morning instead of the 
afternoon. I had to take charge again. Teachers as 
well as scholars are irregular. To-day, after the open- 



106 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

ing exercises, Captain Atherton and I divided the school 
between us. I became thoroughly interested in the 
lesson before we were through, as I often do, and en- 
joyed it, but sha'n't dread it a particle less for next 
time." 

Those whom he taught would have a different story 
to tell of his ability to interest a class. Few of them 
imagined that he so dreaded the duty he performed 
so well. 

Of the South Carolina coast-scenery he wrote, after 
a visit to a neighboring island, from St. Helena : 

" I stood a few hundred yards from the beach, and 
looked seaward through a grove of palmetto-trees, with 
their tufted tops and strangely figured trunks. The 
sun beat down hot on the yellow sands ; there was a 
warm haze over the blue water, dimming the nearer 
shore, and hiding the distant horizon ; and the scene 
was so thoroughly Oriental, that I could as easily 
fancy myself on the shores of Palestine as realize that 
I was on those of Port Royal." 

The intimacy of the adjutant and the chaplain grew 
closer day by day. After leaving New -Berne they 
were seldom separated from each other for many min- 
utes at a time. They had the same tent and blankets, 
and shared all their army possessions. They came to 
be known widely as "the twins," from being always seen 
together. Their free interchange of sentiment modified 
the views of each on many points concerning which 
his opinions had before been positive. Camp's calm, 



FRIENDLY DISCUSSIONS. 107 

reliable judgment many times held in check the chap- 
lain's nervous impulsiveness ; his stores of information 
proved the other often in error as to facts bearing on 
a question at issue; his uniform fairness liberalized 
some sentiments of his friend as to men and measures ; 
and his remarkable purity of mind and consistency of 
adherence to his conscientious views of right could 
not fail to be elevating and ennobling to one closely 
associated with him. On the other hand, Camp had 
been so accustomed to examine every question in its 
purely logical bearings, as sometimes to overlook its 
practical relations to every-day life in the world as it 
is. The chaplain's experience among men furnished 
his friend with new elements of thought in some dis- 
cussions, and those elements he always accepted at 
their fullest weight. 

His change of sentiment as to the propriety of card- 
playing and wine-drinking should not be passed over 
without mention in the record of Camp's army life. 
As neither of these practices was viewed by him as in 
the abstract sinful, he could not join in sweepingly 
condemning them. Although personally abstemious, 
he recognized no positive duty of abstinence, hence 
would not have hesitated to drink a glass of wine had 
he wished it, and as readily before others as by him- 
self; for what he considered right in his practice he 
was willing to have as an example to those about him. 
Of card-playing, in the light in which he saw it, he 
said at one time that he should no more shrink from 



IOS THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the thought of being killed while thus engaged than 
while reading the daily paper. 

The abstinence question he discussed with his friend 
while they were making a passage on an army-trans- 
port. The two stood or sat together on the deck 
during nearly all of one night in the final argument. 
Camp's clear head made the discussion most search- 
ing and thorough; and no reason that could be ad- 
duced in defense of alcohol as a beverage, or the pro- 
priety of its use by any one, was overlooked. It was 
after mature deliberation upon the discussion of that 
night, that Camp expressed his conviction that total 
abstinence was a duty, in view of the evils of intem- 
perance, the weakness of tempted human nature, and 
the responsibility of every man for his personal example. 
Thenceforward, until the day of his death, only on one 
occasion did a drop of alcoholic liquor pass his lips ; 
and that was during his week of escape from prison, 
after such a soaking in the cold river, on a wintry 
night, as required an immediate stimulant to arouse 
sufficient nervous action to sustain life. He more 
than once refused its use, even when advised as a 
medicine by the very friend whose words had led him 
to renounce it. 

Of the other mooted theme, he wrote from St. 
Helena: 

"Last evening we discussed card -playing. You 
know how I have thought and talked on that subject 
for the last five or six years. Three-quarters of an 



THE QUESTION OF CARD- PLAYING. IO9 

hour brought me to his side of the question, — no point 
of abstract right or of absolute duty, but of practical 
expediency. That is what I have all my life neglected 
sufficiently to consider. I have failed both in theory 
and action to give it due weight. A thing of such 
universal application too; there is no point which it 
doesn't touch. I am beginning to realize this as I 
never have before, and my views are being modified 
to an extent, that, if carried out in practice, will affect 
my life both for the present and the future." 

Never afterwards, even in all the lonely prison-hours 
at Charleston, Columbia, and Richmond, where at 
times he was the only officer thus strict in his views, 
did he indulge in a game of cards. Thus true was he 
ever to his convictions of duty, whether they coincided 
with popular opinion or were peculiarly his own. 

General Stevenson's brigade left St. Helena March 
27, and the following day proceeded on transports to 
North Edisto Inlet, as the advance of Hunter and 
Dupont's expedition against Charleston ; having in 
view the occupation of Seabrook Island to protect its 
harbor as a rendezvous for the ironclads and army- 
transports. That island was then in the enemy's pos- 
session, patrolled by his cavalry. General Stevenson's 
command having reached the inlet soon after noon of 
the 28th, the Tenth landed first, while the navy vigor- 
ously shelled the woods of the island. With the 
knowledge that resistance, if made at all, would most 
likely be offered while the troops were landing, the 



IIO THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

debarkation was exciting. Five huge launches, con- 
taining about one hundred men each, pushed off from 
the steamer Cahawba, which brought the Tenth from 
Hilton Head, and were slowly pulled to the shore, 
the men meantime singing cheerily the "John Brown" 
chorus. Soon as the first prow struck the beach, there 
was a scramble for the land, officers and men vying 
with each other in endeavors to be first on the island. 
Many plunged to their waists into water and mud in 
their haste to be foremost. Then, as Camp wrote: 

"We formed line with all speed, ready to repel 
attack, and when all had landed, and piled their knap- 
sacks so as to march with ease and rapidity, started 
along a road which skirted the beach and led toward 
the upper end of the island, — Captains Goodyear and 
Atherton deploying skirmishers in advance of the 
regiment. General Stevenson, Colonel Otis, Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Leggett, Trumbull, and myself, walked 
at the head of the column, within a few yards of Cap- 
tain Goodyear's men. It was somewhat exciting to 
advance thus through an enemy's country, doubtful 
whether it was occupied by them at the time, and 
uncertain at what moment we might meet sudden 
opposition. Trumbull and I enjoyed it exceedingly 
together." 

Two miles up the island the regiment halted for the 
night, on the Seabrook Plantation, darkness having 
already shut in. The Twenty-fourth Massachusetts 
and the Fifty-sixth New York State Volunteers were 



COMFORT IN DISCOMFORT. I I I 

in close support of the Tenth. Soon after the halt, 
the rebel cavalry made a dash upon the picket-reserves ; 
and, in the skirmish which followed, a sergeant of the 
Tenth was carried off a prisoner, mortally wounded. 
" He is the first man," wrote Camp, " ever taken forci- 
bly prisoner from the regiment. It would have been 
better to lose a dozen in action." 

The following morning the Tenth was relieved from 
picket, and returned in a drenching rain-storm to the 
lower end of the island to find itself quarters in a com- 
fortless swamp. 

" It isn't particularly cheerful, after a stormy march," 
wrote Camp, " to halt in the midst of dripping trees 
and bushes, look about one, and consider that his 
home for the next few days is to be right there; that 
he'll have just as much comfort as he can get out of 
those surroundings, and no more. Walk out to Tal- 
cott Mountain (though that is altogether too pleasant 
a place) next time there's a good heavy storm fairly in 
progress, and see how it seems." 

The Tenth was soon, in spite of this unpromising 
location, in a comfortable camp, from which it thence- 
forward alternated with the other regiments of the 
command in three-day tours of outpost duty, anticipat- 
ing hopefully an order to advance to a more active 
part in the opening campaign. As the enemy held 
the upper part of Seabrook Island, and the opposing 
pickets were in sight of each other (the enemy often 
firing upon the "intruding Yankees," or coming down 



112 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

in the night to feel their strength, and in the hope of 
capturing a few prisoners), outpost service was there 
sufficiently exciting to render it attractive. 

General Stevenson wishing to know more of the 
topography of the island, of its approaches from the 
main land, and of the location of the enemy's reserves, 
small scouting-parties went out beyond his lines from 
time to time to obtain the desired information. Such 
undertakings were peculiarly in keeping with the tastes 
and impulses of Adjutant Camp. Rarely, if ever, did 
he fail to make one of the party so advancing ; and in 
more instances than one he and his friend were alone 
on such a scout. Describing some of these adven- 
tures in his home letters, he said of his enjoyment in 
them : 

" The necessity of constant watchfulness, of having 
an eye for every sight and an ear for every sound ; the 
consciousness of what you are staking upon every 
movement you make, and the uncertainty, once ad- 
vanced to a dangerous position, whether even the 
utmost prudence and courage may not fail to extricate 
you, bring into play every faculty a man possesses, 
and put a tension upon every nerve. The enjoyment 
is intense; and I think any man who is thoroughly 
ennuye, and has worn out the round of civilized amuse- 
ments, would find there was one thrill of untried ex- 
citement and pleasure left for him if he would go with 
us on a little excursion outside the lines. Nothing 
but an actual brush with the enemy, which we are 



A NAVAL ADVANCE. I I 3 

provoked to have missed after having once or twice 
offered them so fair an opportunity, has been wanting 
to make all complete. Trumbull and I have been 
together each time, and enjoyed each other's presence 
exceedingly." 

When finally the navy was ready for a move, the 
troops on Seabrook Island found no part assigned 
them in a further advance. This was to Camp a sore 
disappointment. It was with longing eyes that he 
watched from a high sand-bluff, on the morning of 
Easter Sunday, April 4, the great fleet of iron-clads 
and wooden gunboats sail out of Edisto Inlet, and up 
toward Stono, to commence the attack. Two days 
later, writing from his little "A" tent, at the picket 
reserve, he said: 

"As I write this, the thunder of heavy guns to the 
northward is almost incessant. The attack on Charles- 
ton has commenced. I counted ten reports in a min- 
ute, a little while ago, and the fire seems to be growing 
hotter and hotter. We chafe and fret at our distance 
from the fight ; but there's nothing for us but a mas- 
terly inactivity. It is terribly provoking to sit here 
and listen, guarding a few miserable old schooners 
from an attack which would never be made in any 
event, — and to think that this is our share in the great 
Charleston expedition ! " 

A few hours' cannonading ended the great enter- 
prise, which had been so many weeks preparing. 
Camp listened in vain for a resumption of the attack 



114 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

after the first intermission in the firing; and, as he 
listened, he wrote thus of his outpost home with its 
attractions and annoyances : 

" I have hardly seen a prettier spot than this island 
since leaving home, Beaufort, perhaps, excepted. Our 
field and staff tents are by themselves in a quiet, shady 
spot, a little retired from the main road up the island. 
The high sand-bluff upon the beach, used as a look- 
out, is directly opposite us, — a quarter of a mile dis- 
tant through the woods; and we are lulled to sleep at 
night by the roar of the surf at its base. To-night, 
perhaps, it will be a sterner thunder than that of ocean 
storms; a fiercer crash than that of waves along the 
shore. 

" But the gnats, and the ants, and the spiders, and 
the lizards, and the scorpions, and the moccasins, and 
the alligators, and the rebels (most harmless to us of 
any), are the slight drawbacks upon our enjoyment." 

Of another drawback upon enjoyment on the 
Southern coast, he humorously added, in another 
letter : 

" When you hear of mosquitoes, you think of a 
small brown insect, don't you? with legs and wings 
almost invisible, and a hum audible some inches from 
the ear. I wish you could see the animal that goes 
by the same name here. When / speak of a mos- 
quito, I mean something that stands a little less than 
fourteen hands high (can't give the weight, because 
we have no platform-scales); whose wings are like 



LIFE ON SEABROOK ISLAND. I I 5 

Apollyon's in the ' Pilgrim's Progress ; ' whose mus- 
cular legs are horribly striped with black and white; 
whose iting is like the dragon's which St. George 
slew, and whose voice is as the sound of many waters. 
I think of writing an article for the New-Englander, 
settling the question what beast Job described under 
the name of Behemoth, by demonstrating that it was 
a Carolina mosquito or a woodtick, — either of them 
would furnish a more plausible theory than some I 
have read." 

The stay of the Tenth at Seabrook Island was pro- 
longed; and, in spite of the chafing desire to be in 
more active service, Camp enjoyed his life there. The 
island was a good specimen of the cotton-growing 
ones of the South Carolina coast. There were rich 
plantation -plains, malaria-breeding marshes, "wild 
swamps, dense thickets of the tangled Southern under- 
growth, lonely palmetto-jungles, and groves of low 
branching live-oaks, deeply fringed with long gray 
moss." Alligators moved lazily through the sluggish 
waters of the gloomy lagoon, and poisonous reptiles 
glided through the rank grass before the tread of the 
passing soldier. Game was plenty, — deer and rac- 
coons and opossums in the forests, and wild fowl in 
the creeks and inlets, while the waters adjacent fur- 
nished a rich variety of fish, from the mammoth stur- 
geon to the small and palatable mullet. 

Here is one of many incidents of army life on the 
island : 



Il6 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

" Coming back just after dark from the picket-reserve 
to camp, we heard distant singing, which proved, as 
we came near, to be a group of the Ninety-seventh 
Pennsylvania singing hymns. We stopped to listen ; 
and finally T. [Chaplain Trumbull] determined to say a 
few words to them, and did it as he knows how to do 
such a thing, interesting every man of them, from be- 
ginning to end, and concluding with prayer. I liked 
the men's appearance, — the way in which every cap 
came off when T. entered the group, and the respect- 
ful attention they paid. Their manners were real 
Western, — free and easy, without the slightest inten- 
tional disrespect. The moment the meeting was over, 
they crowded around, asked T. if I was a Christian 
man ; and every one of them wanted to shake hands 
with us, and have a good sociable talk. Cordial, open- 
hearted fellows, — it was very pleasant, if not quite 
military. The last thing our men would think of 
would be offering to shake hands with an officer. The 
Ninety-seventh have no chaplain ; but there is a strong 
religious element in the regiment, and quite a num- 
ber, they say, have been converted since joining the 
army. . . . 

" Returning to picket at dusk that evening, the air 
was one blaze of fireflies. I never saw any pyrotechny 
to equal it. There are many beautiful things at the 
South, but nothing under heaven would ever tempt 
me to spend my life here. I should die for pure air 
and clear streams, and rocks and hills. I wouldn't 



A LACK OF OXYGEN. W/ 

exchange our home lot for the whole State of South 
Carolina." 

About the first of May, while the work of intrench- 
ing was going on at Seabrook Island, Chaplain Trum- 
bull left for a brief visit to New-Berne and the North, 
on business for the regiment. The parting of the two 
friends, intimate as they had become, and in view of 
the possibilities of war, was trying to both. 

Writing to his friend, during that separation, of his 
loneliness, Camp expressively declared it to be " as if 
the air were deprived of one-half of its oxygen;" and 
then added: , 

" I used to think, a year ago, that a single wall-tent 
furnished very narrow accommodations for an officer, 
— mine was not large enough. But ours seems very 
lonely and empty this evening : there is a great vacancy 
here, and it remains unfilled, no matter how many 
come in. I could not fully realize, before we were 
separated, how thoroughly our lives had become 
blended, how sadly I should miss you every hour of 
the day, how anxiously I should await the time of 
your return. . . . There is a constant sense of want 
while you are absent, — not at all times making itself 
distinctly intelligible, but ever recurring and still un- 
satisfied. Wherever I turn, there is a great vacuum 
before me. I want it filled. What do you suppose 
would fill it?" 

In the chaplain's absence, the adjutant assumed the 



I I 8 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

conduct of the regimental prayer-meetings and Sun- 
day-school. He reorganized the latter, secured addi- 
tional teachers, assembled them with their associates 
for an examination of the lesson at his own tent on 
Saturday evenings, and canvassed the regiment for 
scholars. In all respects, the school was better man- 
aged than while the chaplain was with it; and the 
prayer-meetings of the regiment were never warmer 
or seemingly more truly profitable than then. As in 
everything else to which he set his hand and heart, he 
filled the place better than it could be filled by another. 

General Ferry assumed command, in May, of the 
troops in North Edisto Inlet, including those on Sea- 
brook and Botany Bay islands. Two members of his 
staff were college mates of Camp, — Captain Brayton 
Ives and Lieutenant H. S. Johnson, — the latter a fellow- 
oarsman in the Worcester regatta; and he enjoyed 
having near him those with whom he had been before 
so pleasantly associated. Occasional excursions were 
made by officers and men of the Tenth to neighboring 
islands patrolled by the enemy, to make observations, 
and to obtain furniture and building-materials for their 
camp from deserted plantation-houses. Of an excur- 
sion to Edisto Island, with two companies as escort 
of the party of officers, Camp wrote, in description of 
the approach to the Seabrook place: 

" Beyond the bridge we moved with great caution ; 
the skirmishers widely deployed, and keenly observant 
of the house and shrubbery, from which, as we were 



ON ED1STO ISLAND. I 1 9 

now within rifle-range, we half expected to be fired 
upon. Standing still for a moment, Dr. Newton saw 
a crow perched upon the cupola of the house. ' All 
right! ' he exclaimed: 'there wouldn't be a crow there 
if there were firearms near by.' That crow was worth 
to us, in the way of evidence, as much as a whole bat- 
talion of skirmishers. It was a very short time before 
we were in possession of the establishment. . . . 

" It is strange what a tendency there is, after once 
taking possession of a place and becoming convinced 
that no enemy is actually on the premises, to settle 
down into a feeling of security. No matter how ner- 
vously it may have been approached, — perhaps all the 
more for the very reasons that the first apprehensions 
proved groundless ; no matter how clear a knowledge 
of the danger still existing men may have, — one will 
yet act as if there were none; and it is often impossi- 
ble, without a distinct effort of the reason, to realize 
it. Everything looks so peaceful and quiet, — and 
then there is the guard (seldom, in fact, adequate to 
cover half the approaches), who would probably give 
the alarm in time enough, unless they were surprised. 
So, arms are stacked, and we wander over the estate 
as carelessly as if it were on the shores of Long Island 
Sound, instead of Edisto Inlet. Still there is an almost 
unconscious watchfulness of the senses, the ear is wide 
awake for the sound of a rifle-shot, no matter what the 
head may be thinking of; the eye, when not other- 
wise employed, is very apt to sweep the circuit of 



120 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

surrounding; woods, or glance down the road ; and the 
crash of a breaking window, the fall of a heavy timber, 
or the sight of an animal moving among the distant 
bushes, arrests the blackberry halfway between the 
vine and one's mouth, or saves the flower for which 
his hand was stretched out, and puts him in readiness, 
on the slightest confirmation of his suspicion, to make 
quick time to the rendezvous. . . . 

" The grounds about the place were very pleasant, 
only needing care. There were paths winding through 
dense shrubbery and passing by ornamental bridges 
over a little stream ; there were arbors and walks 
shaded by foliage too close and thick to give passage 
to a single ray of sunlight ; there were enormous rose- 
trees lifting far above my head such masses of gold 
and crimson as I had never seen, — cloth-of-gold roses, 
do you know them ? — each as large as half a dozen of 
any ordinary variety, crowded with petals of golden 
velvet, so rich and thick, and of a color so soft, that 
you can compare them with nothing but bits of sunset 
cloud : a single one is a magnificent bouquet. There 
was a grove of orange-trees, some of them in blossom ; 
the pure white buds bursting out of glossy deep-green 
leaves, and filling all the air around with perfume almost 
too rich and overpowering. There were strange 
century -plants like mighty cactuses, and unfamiliar 
tropical-looking growths to which I could give no 
name. The luxuriance and fulness of vegetation is 
wonderful : every plant seems to feel itself at home, 



AN EXCITING RECONNOISSANCE. 121 

and abandons itself to utter dissipation and wanton- 
ness of unrestrained development. A Southern April 
has more of glowing bloom, fierce intensity of color 
and brilliancy, in contrast with more of somber shade, 
density of massive growth, and depth of green gloom 
beneath, than Northern midsummer. I have spoken 
of this before; but it was peculiarly noticeable in this 
garden where cultivation had done its utmost, and 
then left Nature to work its own will. . . . 

"We marched back along the sea-beach, almost 
every man with some article of comfort or convenience 
for his tent, scarcely one without a huge bunch of 
these gorgeous flowers in the muzzle of his rifle or in 
his hand ; so that, marching at will, we looked more 
like a procession of Italian peasants returning from a 
festival, than a battalion of Connecticut Yankees com- 
ing back from a hazardous reconnoissance." 

About the first of June, the chaplain returned to the 
regiment, and the friends were again as one. Not 
many days after their reunion, they accompanied 
General Stevenson, with several companies of the 
Tenth, beyond the picket-lines on a reconnoissance to 
the extreme upper end of the island to examine its 
approaches from John's Island. The rebel pickets 
fell back on the approach of the general's party, and 
retired over a broken causeway to a collection of 
buildings, including an old sugar-house on the John's 
Island side of the little creek which bounded Seabrook 
Island in that direction. There were indications that 



122 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

they had a strong reserve in the rear of those build- 
ings; but, it not being the general's purpose to go 
beyond the island, he ordered a return by another 
path than that which had just been passed over. Up 
to this time, he had met with no resistance. 

" Retiring, the skirmishers, deployed in open line, 
marched in the rear. Within a dozen paces were the 
general, with two or three of his friends, — Colonel 
Otis, Lieutenant -Colonel Leggett, Dr. Newton, T., 
and myself. Captain White, who commanded the 
skirmishers, was close by. We had gone some little 
distance, supposing that the affair was over, and half 
grumbling that it had amounted to no more, when we 
were startled by a report behind us, followed instantly 
by the sharp hiss of a bullet close past our heads. 
The skirmishers — to say nothing of any others — were 
a trifle surprised. Every man of them ducked his 
head; and we found ourselves suddenly just about in 
line with them. Then another report and another 
bullet ; this time a few feet over us, and a little one 
side. Shot followed shot in quick succession ; now 
two or three almost together, then an interval of 
quiet. 

"We walked slowly along, not altering our pace, — 
sometimes stooping at the sound of the explosion, and 
sometimes not. I was surprised to find that there was 
abundant time for this before the arrival of the bullet, 
— a distinct interval, — showing that its velocity and 
that of sound differ more than I had supposed. It 



AGAIN UNDER FIRE. 1 23 

must have been long range; but the marksmanship 
was excellent. Bullets struck among us, passed over 
us, by us, between us, everywhere but through us. 
We were undoubtedly made special targets. The 
group walking together was an excellent mark, and 
the distance was short enough ; so that, with a glass 
at least, badges of rank must have been easily dis- 
tinguishable. Dr. Newton had on a white Panama 
hat, — just the thing at which to aim. Colonel Leg- 
gett was just in front of T. and myself, a little one side. 
He looked around once, saw the smoke curl from the 
muzzle of a piece, and instinctively stepped to the left. 
In a second more the bullet whistled between us and 
him, passing directly where he had stood, and striking 
the ground within a few inches of his foot. 

" The difference in sound between different bullets 
was marked. Some had the fierce whiz of the spin- 
ning rifle-ball, some the sharp hiss of the smooth-bore 
missile, and some a fainter and less vicious ' whssh,' as 
if they were almost spent, and had lost half their venom. 
Some were more distant; some seemed close to our 
ears: but there was hardly one ill aimed, and it was 
really strange — providential, I should say — that none 
of us were hit. . . . The most tantalizing thing all 
this time was that the enemy kept closely under cover. 
We didn't catch sight of a man after fire was opened. 
Our men were told not to return it unless they could 
see their mark ; and the result was that not a shot was 
fired from our side. They did not keep it up long, — 



124 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

probably kept near the bridge, — and we were soon 
out of range." 

The enemy seemed provoked at the escape of the 
venturesome party, and, soon after the latter had 
reached its former lines, came down with cavalry, 
artillery, and infantry, and opened with a section of a 
light battery from the front yard of the Seabrook House, 
on the woods which shielded the Union pickets. 
General Stevenson ordered up two guns to reply; and 
a brisk artillery duel followed, with a few casualties 
on both sides. "We enjoyed intensely the exciting 
sport," wrote Camp to his home, in description of this 
afternoon's experiences: then, in defense of the senti- 
ment thus expressed, he said in a subsequent letter: 

"No motive that is not positively wrong can, I 
think, be spared. There is lack, rather than excess, 
with most. Whatever may be the underlying prin- 
ciple of action which is really at the basis of all else, I 
am inclined to believe that that which is usually upper- 
most in the mind, as immediately affecting the conduct 
in time of danger and trial, is the excitement of the 
struggle, positively; negatively, the shame of miscon- 
duct or failure. As long as men are mere men, I 
don't see how it can be otherwise. If the higher in- 
ducements to duty were the only ones, I should fear 
for results. What will be the effect upon character, 
we can judge better, perhaps, when the war is over. It 
does not seem to me that it will be otherwise than 
beneficial ; a belief which is, of course, the necessary 



WINNING FRIENDS AND PRAISE. 1 25 

sequence of a belief in the motives themselves as being 
— in ultimate subordination to nobler ones — justifiable 
and right." 

The fleet-captain of the ironclads in the waters of 
Edisto was Commander George W. Rodgers of the 
Cattskill, a Christian officer of rare worth and attain- 
ments, whom the two friends found congenial in tastes 
and sympathy. They visited him in his vessel, and 
he was frequently in their tent. It was Captain 
Rodgers's custom to conduct a religious service among 
his men every Sunday, and he was glad to have the 
chaplain preach for him occasionally; while he always 
came to the shore for the camp service on Sundays, 
when he could do so. He greatly admired Adjutant 
Camp, saying to his friend that he deemed him the 
most attractive volunteer officer he had ever met. 

The adjutant was detailed as judge-advocate of a 
general court-martial on Seabrook Island ; and al- 
though, with his accustomed distrust of himself and 
his relentless self-censure, he wrote, " I was careless 
and clumsy, made omissions and blunders, and did 
myself very little credit," he won warm praise from 
the officers composing the court; and one of the most 
prominent of them remarked afterward, that every 
member of it became attached to him, although but 
one or two had known him before. 

The power of his personal presence was remarka- 
ble. Few ever saw him without being impressed with 



126 



THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 



a sense of his superiority. The impulse to lift a hat 
to him, as a tribute to his dignified manliness, was 
often manifested even by those above him in official 
rank. Said one who w r as always his superior officer, 
" I was never very intimate with Camp, for I always 
had too much respect for him." The better he was 
known, the more he was esteemed and beloved. 





CHAPTER VII. 

JAMES ISLAND AND FORT WAGNER. 




r|N the evening of Monday, July 6, 1863, a 
pleasant party sat at dinner in the field and 
staff mess-tent of the Tenth Regiment, on 
Seabrook Island. An old-fashioned New 
England chowder had been prepared, and 
General Stevenson and Commander Rodgers were 
invited to share it. Besides these guests there were 
present Colonel Otis, Lieutenant - Colonel Leggett, 
Major Greeley, Surgeon Newton, and Assistant-Sur- 
geon Hart, together with the adjutant and the chaplain. 
While the dinner was in progress, and all were enjoy- 
ing themselves, with hardly a thought of severe service 
as a possibility for the season, word came that a 
steamer was crossing the bar at the mouth of the inlet ; 
and at once the party was broken up, never to be re- 
united on earth. 

Within a fortnight from that evening, Adjutant 
Camp and his friend were prisoners in a Charleston 
jail. The brave Lieutenant-Colonel Leggett lost a leg 

127 



128 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

in the trenches of Morris Island, and good Commander 
Rodgers yielded his life in the bombardment of Fort 
Wagner. Later, gallant General Stevenson was killed 
at Spottsylvania Court House, and Major Camp fell 
before Richmond; while Colonel Otis and Surgeon 
Newton left the service, after prolonged and arduous 
campaigning. At the time of the writing of this 
memorial, only Major (now Colonel) Greeley, Surgeon 
Hart, and Chaplain Trumbull, remain in service, of the 
nine who then arose from the table. 

"Orders had come," wrote Camp, in his home 
letters, " to go aboard the Ben de Ford (a large ocean 
steamer) as soon as she arrived, which would be dur- 
ing the night. ' Light marching order, forty rounds 
of ammunition in the cartridge-boxes, ten days' ra- 
tions, shelter-tents for the men.' I carried the order 
round to company commanders. It is curious to 
see how men will take a bit of news that has some- 
what of the startling in it. I like to take one, and 
watch ; see with what an utterly matter-of-course air 
they listen — ask a question that may be of life or death 
as unconcernedly as they would ask whether you liked 
your beefsteak rare or well done ; and see behind it 
all the intense interest and curiosity with which the 
smallest item of information in reference to the affair 
is caught at and treasured up. I was amused last 
night at a lieutenant, who heard what I had to say to 
him as quietly as if it hardly paid him for taking his 
eyes off his newspaper. I left the tent, but had occa- 



PRAYING BEFORE FIGHTING. 1 29 

sion to repass it immediately. There he was, perform- 
ing the wildest kind of a Pawnee war-dance; just 
about half crazy with delight and excitement at the 
prospect of work ahead. News went before me as I 
passed down the line ; and, in ten minutes, prepara- 
tions were under full headway." 

General Stevenson's troops, with the exception of 
enough for guard duty, left Seabrook Island on the 
early morning of July 7. Only the effective men of 
the command went along, and the officers took merely 
such personal baggage as could be carried in a haver- 
sack or light valise. The understanding was that they 
were to return in a few days ; but, as in the leaving of 
New-Berne, the event proved that they were not to go 
back. Sailing to Port Royal Harbor, they waited the 
completion of arrangements for General Gillmore's 
attack on Morris Island. The Fifty-sixth New York 
regiment, under Colonel Van Wyck, was with the 
Tenth on the Ben de Ford. On the evening of July 9, 
there was a delightfully impressive prayer-meeting on 
the after-deck of the steamer, attended largely by the 
officers and men of both regiments, which will not 
soon be forgotten by any who participated in it. 
Soldiers love to pray before they fight. Those who 
trust in Jesus draw closer to him then, and the rough- 
est are reverent at such a time. The voices of prayer 
were subdued, yet earnest ; and the songs of praise 
were mellow with deep feeling. 

The morning of July 10 found the troops of General 
9 



I3O THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

Terry — under whom General Stevenson was com- 
manding his brigade — landing at the lower end of 
James Island, in conjunction with General Strong's 
advance from Folly to Morris Island. The former's 
move was unopposed, and he chose his first position 
a short distance up the island. From the roof of the 
Rivers' house, a full view was obtained of Charleston 
and its harbor; and the friends watched with deepest 
interest the firing from Sumter and Moultrie and the 
Morris-Island batteries, and from the iron-clad fleet in 
the offing, and speculated on the progress and pros- 
pects of the battle as reports came over from the forces 
of General Gillmore in that direction. 

On Saturday evening, just before sundown, a demon- 
stration was made toward the works at Secessionville. 
Here is Camp's story of this movement: 

" The Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, Ninety-seventh 
Pennsylvania, and ourselves, advanced ; formed line 
of battle in a large open field, while the gunboats 
shelled the ground in front ; and at dusk we threw out 
pickets a few hundred yards, and bivouacked for the 
night. All our men, except one company, were posted 
on picket, and covered a very long front. Henry 
[the chaplain] went in one direction, and I in another, 
along the line, to carry orders. (Henry I always call 
him here ; and I'm going to quit insulting him as 
'T.' in my letters to you; and here is a commence- 
ment.) Darkness coming on rapidly, I lost my way 
in endeavoring to gain the reserve. The field had 



PICKETING ON JAMES ISLAND. I3I 

been plowed in deep furrows ; was overgrown with 
rank weeds, breast-high ; was broken up by thorny, 
impenetrable hedges, and miry, impassable ditches ; 
and was in all respects about as undesirable a place 
for an evening ramble as could be got up to order. 
Every other step among the irregular furrows pitched 
one unexpectedly forward, jarring every bone in his 
body, or brought him up standing against an ascend- 
ing slope. Every few rods brought him to a chasm, 
invisible in the darkness, until his foot was on its edge. 
Every few hundred yards plunged him into briers and 
bushes, where he would do well if he could retrace his 
steps to the entrance with any considerable remnant 
of clothes or skin. Then there was the more than even 
chance of being shot by our own pickets, who, so near 
the enemy's works, stand upon very little ceremony, 
and give their single challenge in scarcely audible tones, 
lest they should be heard too far. Twice I but just dis- 
tinguished it among the crackling underbrush; and 
often I halted abruptly, doubting whether I had heard it 
or not. Ordinarily, having found the picket- line, it 
would be easy to reach the reserve : but here, the 
pickets, having been moved after dark, gave the most 
contrary directions ; and repeated attempts to follow 
their advice only bewildered me the more by want of 
success in ascertaining where they had brought me." 

A spot is seldom found more perplexing for a night 
tramp than that seemingly boundless field, with its 
furrows and ditches and entangling weeds, and the 



132 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

enemy so near at hand. Men who were then on post 
tell to this day of the many bewildered wanderers who 
came prowling along the line that night in search of 
the reserve, and of the confusing whistling and signal- 
calling at right and left and rear, kept up for hours by 
the lost ones, or by those who were searching for 
them. Hardly an officer left his position but he had 
difficulty in finding his way back to it. It was near 
midnight before Camp and his friend were again to- 
gether at the reserve, both by that time wellnigh 
exhausted from their exertions in the suffocating air 
of a South Carolina July night. 

"We spread Henry's buffalo and my blankets," 
wrote Camp the next day, "over an India-rubber, across 
the furrows, our heads resting on one ridge, our feet 
over another; and composed ourselves for a capital 
sleep, tired enough. Never were poor fellows worse 
disappointed. Mosquitoes attacked us in a style to 
which rebels wouldn't have been a circumstance. I 
suppose we did sleep during the night ; but we didn't 
know it. We seemed to spend every moment in writh- 
ing into new positions of defense or suffering. I was 
driven up at daylight. Having accomplished that, the 
enemy retired, and now seem to be waiting until we 
try to sleep again at night." 

Camp omitted in that letter to tell of an act of gen- 
erous self-forgetfulness of his that morning. The 
chaplain, who had left Seabrook Island in poor health, 
and had no surplus. strength to expend, suffered acutely 



THOUGHTFUL TENDERNESS. I 33 

during that night of torment; tossing restlessly; un- 
able to sleep, yet unable to awake fully; at times pull- 
ing the blanket as a mosquito-bar over his face and 
hands, to swelter under its oppressive weight ; then 
throwing it off only to be bitten at every exposed atom 
as before; and thus until nearly morning, when there 
came to him in his half-consciousness a sense of ex- 
quisite relief in the drawing-away of the heavy blanket, 
the wiping of the soaked face, the fanning of the 
heated brow, the keeping-back of the persecuting 
swarm, followed by such delightful, refreshing, satisfy- 
ing repose, as he scarce ever knew before or since. 
Understanding his friend's condition from his own 
experience, Camp had risen to care for him with affec- 
tionate tenderness : and there had sat, for nearly two 
hours, to secure sleep to the one of whose comfort he 
was ever thus considerate, wakening him, finally, only 
to give him a cup of fresh and invigorating army coffee 
which he had had prepared. Such evidences of his 
warmth of heart and nobleness of nature were by no 
means rare toward the one blessed with his friendship. 
"There is no probability," Camp added, "that we 
shall do any fighting here, though we expected to come 
under fire when we marched yesterday afternoon. The 
most uncomfortable sensations connected with a fight 
are those of immediate anticipation, without the ex- 
citement of action. Such we experienced then, but 
army life has rendered them quite familiar. Give me 
a short march to the field, fight or no fight." 



134 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

The advanced position taken on Saturday night by 
General Terry's troops was held for several days, the 
different regiments alternating in picketing its front. 
During the afternoon of Wednesday, July 15, while 
the Tenth was on outpost, the enemy made a demon- 
stration on the line for the purpose of ascertaining its 
location and strength, but retired without making an 
attack. Of what followed, Camp wrote : 

" During the night, there were occasional shots 
along the line of outposts. We had had a booth con- 
structed, open on all four sides, but covered at the top. 
Under this, dry grass was thickly spread. Our buffalo 
and blankets laid upon this made the most luxurious 
bed we had enjoyed since leaving Seabrook Island; 
and, after being disturbed once or twice in the evening 
by slight showers, I was taking the comfort of it, 
when, just about daylight, I was aroused by the bustle 
about me. 'What does this mean?' said I to a man 
near me. 'There's so much firing,' said he, 'that the 
colonel has ordered the tents struck ' (shelter tents, 
of course). I opened my ears : there was the popping 
of not very distant musketry, growing, every instant 
that I listened, louder and more rapid. There was no 
time for delay. Henry and I dressed ourselves by 
putting on our coats and boots, rolled up our blankets, 
and slung our haversacks. As we did so, a messenger 
came to say that the Fifty -fourth Massachusetts 
(colored), who were picketed on our right, were fall- 
ing back, and the enemy following close upon them. 



A MORNING ATTACK. 1 35 

This was serious news ; for, being on the extreme left, 
with a swamp behind us, our communications with the 
supports in the rear were endangered. Almost at the 
same moment, the boom of artillery came to our ears 
from the left ; and a glance showed us that the enemy- 
had opened upon the Pawnee, which lay nearly oppo- 
site us in the river. A second shot followed almost 
immediately upon the first, and the shriek of the shell 
through the air ended with a heavy crash as it tore 
its way through the vessel's timbers. The rebel artil- 
lerists already had the range; and two batteries at 
once opened, keeping up an almost incessant roar of 
explosions, while the frequent sound of splintering 
woodwork showed how effective was their fire. 

"A cloud of smoke, lit up with constant flashes, 
marked their position within easy range of our own; 
and the plan seemed evident, — to drive in the center 
of our picket-line, depriving us of all chance of sup- 
port; to cripple the vessel by whose guns we were 
covered, and thus render us helpless against the attack 
of the vastly superior force which could easily be 
brought down upon us. Under this fire, — wonderful 
for its precision and rapidity, — the Pawnee at first 
seemed to show no signs of life. Shot after shot appar- 
ently raked her from stem to stern: still no answer. 
At length came the deep thunder of her huge Parrott 
gun, compared with which the voices of the rebel 
field-pieces were like the barking of a pack of curs 
against a mastiff. But the wildness of her fire con- 



I36 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

trasted sadly with the accuracy of the enemy. Her 
gunners were evidently taken by surprise; and shell 
after shell burst wide of the mark, while with tedious 
slowness she swung gradually broadside on. The sight 
was a beautiful and exciting one, rarely witnessed to 
such advantage as now. 

" Meantime we were not idle. Our pickets had 
been sent for, with orders to make all haste; and from 
every part of the line we could see them across the 
wide plain coming in on the double-quick, while the 
sound of musketry upon the right grew continually 
more distinct and frequent. As the pickets reached 
the reserve, they formed line. The last comers re- 
ported that the enemy were plainly to be seen near at 
hand from the outposts, a few hundred yards distant. 
Had we been in any other position along the line, it 
would have been our duty to resist their advance; and 
we should have retired slowly, if we had retired at 
all, fighting as we went. Here it would have been 
the useless and inevitable sacrifice of the whole regi- 
ment by isolation from the rest of the command. 
Colonel Leggett had received orders with reference to 
this contingency, and acted upon them, as it proved, 
not a moment too soon. 

"The order was given to march. As we started, 
heavy discharges of artillery sounded from the right ; 
at least a section or two of a rebel battery had taken 
possession not far from us in that direction. In reply 
to these, our own field-guns soon opened, and were 



AN EXCITING MOVE. 1 37 

served with a rapidity and accuracy which spoke well 
for our friend Captain Rockwell (of the First Con- 
necticut Light Battery), and compared favorably with 
the rebel fire. So, to the music of cannon on the 
right and left, and musketry in the rear, we took up 
our unaccustomed movement away from the front. 
The rebels and ourselves were marching upon con- 
verging lines, and their distance from the point of 
intersection was but slightly greater than our own. It 
became an interesting question, how much before them 
we should reach it. Thickets and hedges for the first 
few minutes prevented our seeing them, and we moved 
in ordinary quick time. Coming at length to a point 
whence we could obtain a view of the wide plain, the 
sight that disclosed itself was a startling one. Large 
bodies of gray-coated men, plainly visible, and already 
within rifle-range, were rapidly and steadily moving 
down toward the path along which we must march ; 
their advance and ours very nearly upon the same 
line. ' Double-quick ' was the word ; and we increased 
our gait to a trot. Cut off by such a force as that, 
our case was hopeless : it was life or death, captivity 
or freedom. Few words were spoken : each man saved 
his breath and strength for the time of greatest need, 
kept his place in the ranks, and moved steadily for- 
ward, only now and then turning his head to see 
what was gained or lost. The dusk of morning had 
not yet changed to full daylight. The bushes by the 
roadside partially concealed us, and we were probably 



I38 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

still unseen. Looking back toward the place we had 
left, a long line of cavalry could be seen advancing in 
open order; the enemy's skirmishers feeling their way 
toward the position, which, as far as they knew, we 
still occupied, closing about it from all sides. 

" Five minutes later that morning, and I should be 
writing to you, if writing at all, from a Charleston 
prison. [He was there before this letter reached his 
home.] The sight was a fine one : an outside spectator, 
at least, would have considered it so. It is seldom that 
one sees simultaneous operations of artillery, cavalry, 
and infantry upon the same field. We were naturally 
more interested in results than appearances. Had fire 
then been opened upon us, it would have put the 
soldierly discipline and steadiness which our men were 
proving so well to a severer test than I should have 
wished to see. It was not done. We soon reached 
and passed the point of greatest danger, and, leaving 
the road as soon as the nature of the ground made it 
practicable, made our way through the woods to our 
camp, and took our position in the line of battle upon 
which several regiments were already formed. 

" Great as was our relief at escaping the more im- 
mediate danger, the excitement of the day was by no 
means over. The rebel forces which had so nearly 
intercepted us were soon in line before us. Their flag, 
with its white field and red union, transversely crossed 
with blue, floated at intervals along the front, show- 
ing the space occupied by each regiment. Mounted 



THE FIFTY-FOURTH MASSACHUSETTS. 1 39 

officers galloped along their ranks; and it looked as 
if for once we were to have a fair field-fight. So we 
stood for a little time, watching for the ball to open. 
Then, instead of the advance which we expected, they 
faced to the right, and passed at a double-quick along 
our front, and out of sight behind the woods. This 
might be a movement more threatening than a direct 
one. Our left was greatly exposed. Should their 
battery flank and enfilade us, our own regiment and 
the Fifty-sixth would be in a very critical position, 
unable to resist an attack to any advantage. Mean- 
time the artillery and gunboats kept up a constant 
roar. A shell, which probably came from the latter, 
exploded in the woods, half a dozen rods behind us ; 
and their fire repeatedly endangered our skirmishers 
more than that of the enemy. For half an hour, we 
were in suspense: then came word that they had re- 
tired. The artillery fire ceased, and we were dismissed 
from our position." 

The loss in the engagement was exclusively to the 
Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, Colonel Shaw's regiment, 
which had fought so bravely, in retiring from the 
picket -line under overwhelming pressure, as to win 
respect from all other troops of the command. 

The night after the battle, James Island was quietly 
evacuated by our troops ; the purpose of its occupancy, 
in drawing forces from the direction of Morris Island 
while General Gillmore obtained a foothold there, 
being successfully accomplished. The march in dark- 



I4O THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

ness and rain across the marshes and over the rickety 
causeways toward Cole Island was tedious and perplex- 
ing ; and a brief rest during the next day, at that point, 
was most grateful to the weary men of Stevenson's 
brigade. Yet another night called for a new move. 
Hours of waiting on the beach for the rising tide were 
followed by hours of cramped confinement on a crowded 
barge in a drenching rain. 

The morning of Saturday, July 18, brought the 
troops to the shore of Folly Island. Marching to its 
upper end, they were ferried thence across Lighthouse 
Creek to Morris Island, just as the heavy bombard- 
ment of Fort Wagner was commenced by the land 
batteries and the fleet of ironclads and wooden gun- 
boats. The tired troops from James Island had but 
little time for rest. 

"About 5 P.M.," wrote Camp, "came the order to 
fall in, and march down to the shore. We were not 
the only troops, it seemed, who had received the same 
instructions. Far up the beach stretched the long 
column, of which Stevenson's entire brigade formed 
less than a third part. There was little doubt as to 
the work before us, and that little was speedily set at 
rest by word from the general himself. We were to 
storm the fort. Our hearts beat high and fast. Our 
men were faint and weary with days and nights of 
sleeplessness and toil. Scarcely three hours' rest, 
and now work to which all else had been as play was 
set before them ; but the announcement sent new 



IN COLUMN FOR ASSAULT. I4I 

strength through each vein. To storm the fort — that 
was a new and untried task. On the open field, and 
before rifle-pits and field-works, they had more than 
once already marched through the rain of bullets, and 
over captured batteries. But now it was to wade the 
ditch, to clamber with hand and foot up the steep 
slope beyond, while grape and canister would pour 
forth with the very blaze of the powder in their faces 
from the huge siege-guns, into whose muzzles they 
must look, to meet at the parapet's edge the bayonets 
of its defenders, and force the foe upward and back- 
ward over his own vantage-ground. The feeling was 
not of doubt or shrinking, but of curiosity mingled 
with firm resolve, be the untried struggle what it 
might, — wonder with fierce excitement. Among the 
groups of officers, as we stood at a halt, and along the 
ranks, some faces glowed with the strange joy of com- 
bat ; but most had the fixed look of determination, 
swallowing up every trace of emotion. 

"We anticipated, at first, the leading place in the 
assault ; but when the column finally moved forward, 
we were some distance from its head. As we advanced 
the bombardment grew hotter and hotter, while the 
enemy, on their part, sent only an occasional shot or 
shell — sometimes from the Cummings Point Battery, 
sometimes even from distant Sumter — whizzing by in 
front of us, or passing overhead, and dashing up the 
water a little distance from the shore. Reaching at 
length the outermost range of sand-hills, from which 



142 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

level marshy ground stretches away toward the fort, 
some twelve or fourteen hundred yards distant, our 
brigade was detached from the column, and sent into 
the trenches, to remain under cover until reinforce- 
ments should be needed at the front. It was a disap- 
pointment not to be allowed to participate in the first 
attack; but the decision was probably made in view of 
the physical exhaustion of the men after their recent 
hardships. 

" For a few moments we stood still in the shelter 
thus afforded, and listened with a feeling of compara- 
tive security to the howl of shot and shell over us, as 
the fire of the enemy increased in rapidity and fre- 
quency. But the desire to see the progress of the 
movement conquered all else ; and Henry and I 
speedily mounted the bank and looked out before us, 
taking, a few minutes afterward, still another position, 
partially covered, and yet able to command a view of 
the entire field. Our column was still moving on in 
silence, the rapidly advancing darkness almost hiding 
them from our sight. On our left, within a few yards 
of us, stood General Gillmore and his staff, watching 
intently, from a slight elevation, all that lay beneath, 
regardless of the no inconsiderable danger to which we 
were all exposed. The intervals were short between 
the discharges of the enemy's artillery. We could see 
the burning fuse describe its curve through the air, 
unable sometimes to determine whether from a piece 
of theirs or of our own — now diverging widely to the 



ATTACK ON FORT WAGNER. 1 43 

right or left, now seeming to come directly toward us; 
then, as we stooped behind our defenses, the swift rush 
of the shell and the loud report of its explosion — harm- 
less if in front, dangerous if overhead or within short 
distance to the rear. One, bursting a few yards behind 
Henry and myself, sprinkled us with the earth which 
it threw up. 

"Night was soon fairly upon us, and the scene 
became one of absolute magnificence. The firing of 
the fleet was almost incessant — twenty or thirty dis- 
charges in a minute — keeping up one uninterrupted 
peal of thunder; while each flash lighted up the vessel 
from which it came, the smoke which rolled upward, 
and the water beneath, with vivid brilliance. Nothing 
in the way of pyrotechnics could equal in effect a 
broadside from the New Ironsides; its swift tongues 
of flame piercing deep into the darkness, and bringing 
out into momentary distinctness the immense hull 
from which they sprung, and the heavy boom of the 
discharges coming over the water after long apparent 
delay, while the fancy followed into the dark fort the 
fourteen hundred pounds of solid iron which flew mean- 
time, and wondered if they did their work. 

" When a small boat put off from the shore toward 
the fleet, and when, shortly afterward, the firing from 
the vessels grew slack, and then ceased altogether, we 
knew what it must mean, and looked still more anx- 
iously over the plain. A few minutes of comparative 
silence, and then a burst of flame from the walls of the 



144 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

fort, — otherwise undistinguishable in the darkness, — 
and the sharp crackle of musketry told us that the 
assault had commenced. Heavy discharges of artillery 
followed in rapid succession, flashing like heat-light- 
ning, while the little jets of fire from the rifles made a 
sparkling frieze along the dark parapet. Ah ! how 
men were falling there ! — mowed down by whole com- 
panies, as grape-shot and bullets tore through their 
ranks. Nothing but flash and report was to be seen 
or heard. We could only fancy the fearful work that 
was going on, and hope that the result would compen- 
sate for it all. Now the fire seemed to be growing 
less hot, occasionally almost ceasing for a brief space, 
then bursting out again with new fury. 

" We watched eagerly and waited, but no news came 
back to us ; nor did General Gillmore himself seem to 
receive any information from the front. Finally, as if 
impatient of the delay, and anxious that no time should 
be lost when help was called for, he ordered our brig- 
ade forward to the outermost lines, a mere sand-bag 
breastwork, where a few pieces of artillery had lately 
been put in position. We advanced in line of battle 
irregularly enough over the marshy, uneven ground, 
in darkness so thick that but a small part of the line 
could be seen at once. Shell flew thickly over and 
around us, exploding on all sides; but we were 
unharmed, and soon found ourselves again under shel- 
ter, such as it was, several hundred yards farther to 
the front than before. 



SIGNS OF FAILURE. 1 45 

"The fight was still raging, but with less intensity 
than an hour previous. Again we watched its varying 
aspect, until at length a messenger came. 'Our forces 
were within the fort, but needed support ; Stevenson's 
brigade would go forward.' Gladly we obeyed the sum- 
mons ; but the execution of the order had been hardly 
commenced when it was countermanded, and another 
of ill-boding significance substituted. We were again 
to form line, and stop all stragglers who might endeav- 
or to pass us. Few came. Once or twice in the dark- 
ness, I saw a man moving toward the rear. ' What 
are you doing here?' said I to one poor fellow, as I 
stopped him. 'I'm wounded,' said he; and, know- 
ing that I would not accept the threadbare excuse of 
every straggler without proof, took my hand and laid it 
into the gory furrow plowed upon his head by some 
fragment of shell. I didn't keep him long waiting. 
Another was wounded in the leg, but still able to 
walk. And so they came; though most of those who 
could make their own way back to hospital followed 
the beach down, and we saw nothing of them. Once 
a horrible chorus of groans and shrieks rose from the 
direction of the water, and then all was silent again. 
We were told afterward that the ambulances, in the 
darkness, ran over some wounded men. 

"About eleven o'clock a report was brought that we 
had been successful, and it was later than that before 
the firing altogether ceased; but by midnight there 
was verv little doubt that the result had been unfavora- 



I46 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

ble. Once or twice we were roused by the report of 
the sentries that movements were to be seen upon the 
plain in front; but we were exceedingly weary, and I, 
at least, lost hardly a moment, after each story was 
pronounced false, before sinking back into sound 
sleep." 

The Tenth not being engaged, the chaplain had 
turned aside from his regiment when the earliest 
wounded came back from the assaulting column, to 
aid in caring for them ; and he was separated from his 
friend until the dawning of the gloomy Sunday morn- 
ing which succeeded that night of carnage and defeat. 
Their regiment holding the outermost lines of defense, 
the friends could then see distinctly the entire battle- 
field, with its scores of dead and wounded yet uncared 
for, — the rising tide actually drowning some of the 
poor fellows who were unable to crawl away to higher 
ground than the sand-hollows in which they lay ; but 
it was impossible for them to do anything for the relief 
of those beyond their lines. When, however, about 
noon, they were told by their commanding officer that 
a flag of truce, which they had seen pass out, had se- 
cured a brief armistice, that the dead might be buried 
and the wounded removed, the chaplain was glad of an 
opportunity to go and minister to those who so sorely 
needed help; and Camp was ready to accompany him, 
as always, — not only, in this instance, that he might 
be of service, but in the hope of hearing of some college 
classmates, who were from the vicinity of Charleston. 



MADE PRISONERS. 1 47 

The friends went out, with the full approbation of 
their superior officers, for a work which, as the duty 
of one, was the mission of both. They had no reason 
to anticipate exposure to capture, or deem their move- 
ment in any sense venturesome. Passing a few rods 
beyond their pickets, they met a Confederate sergeant 
with a squad of men, who neither halted them nor 
seemed surprised at their advance. Of him they 
inquired if the armistice still held. " I believe so," 
was his reply. To make the matter sure, they asked 
for his officers. He pointed to a group close at hand ; 
and, as the friends moved thither, one of the officers 
stepped forward quickly, with the remark, " Prisoners! 
gentlemen." A statement being made as to the 
understood arrangement and the object of the visit, 
the officer claimed that the agreement covered only a 
cessation of hostilities, for attention to dead and 
wounded by each party within its own lines, and in- 
sisted on considering the friends as prisoners. They 
protested against being held under such circumstances, 
while engaged in a humane work, at a time of admitted 
amity, especially as the sergeant on what was now 
claimed as the line had freely permitted them to pass. 

One of the Charleston officers of the party was evi- 
dently unwilling to have them detained ; but the captain 
on General Hagood's staff, who had first stopped them, 
being a renegade Northerner, had less of fairness, and 
refused to release them until their case was laid before 
his general, then in command of Fort Wagner. After 



I48 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

considerable delay word came back, that while General 
Hagood did not wish to take any advantage of a mis- 
understanding in such a matter, he could not assume 
the responsibility of releasing the friends, now that they 
were inside the lines, without special authority from 
General Ripley, at Charleston, to whom he would sub- 
mit their case. After two or three more hours of anx- 
ious waiting, the friends were led blindfold along the 
beach, past Fort Wagner, to Cummings's Point, where 
they remained until sundown, being told all the while 
that the question as to their release was yet undecided. 
In the evening they, with other prisoners, including 
many wounded, were taken up to Charleston by 
steamer, stopping for a while at Fort Sumter ; being 
probably the last Union officers at that world-renowned 
fortress before its destruction, a few weeks later. 

Reaching the city, they were marched with the col- 
ored privates of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regi- 
ment, amid the jeers of the populace, through the 
streets to the provost-marshal's. Thence they were 
taken to the gloomy jail, and at ten o'clock at night 
thrust — twenty in all — into a small and filthy room, 
without furniture, and not large enough for all to find 
a place on the floor, without overlapping one another. 
By special order from General Ripley, the friends were 
to pass the night with the colored privates, instead of 
with white officers ; but that was the least annoyance 
which made their first night in prison so sad and 
gloomy. 




CHAPTER VIII. 

PRISON LIFE AND ESCAPE. 

[TRANGE sensations," wrote Camp, "are 
those which a man experiences during his 
first hours in prison. The consciousness 
of helplessness under restraint produces 
a feeling of absolute suffocation, a night- 
mare oppression, with a nervousness that makes it 
impossible to sit or stand still, to concentrate the 
thoughts on any subject, or to do anything but pace 
up and down the longest possible beat which the nar- 
row limits of confinement will afford. 

" We were allowed in the morning to purchase some 
bread, and a decoction of rye or barley as a substitute 
for coffee. Early in the forenoon, Henry and I were 
removed from the room in which we had slept, taken 
through long corridors with their grated iron doors, 
up flight after flight of massive stone stairs, to a room 
in one of the upper stories, — the quarters of imprisoned 
officers. Here we found the officers taken on Satur- 
day night in the assault. . . . 

149 



I5O THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

" Henry and I had been congratulating one another 
that we were together, speaking of how much harder 
to endure all this would be but for our mutual help 
and sympathy, when, about the middle of the fore- 
noon, an order came detailing the captured chaplain 
and nineteen men to assist in caring for the wounded 
at the hospital. It was a heavy blow for us both. I 
would gladly have gone as one of the nineteen; but 
orders were strict that no officer should be included 
in the number. We parted sadly enough — more so 
than on the eve of battle ; for we had more apprehen- 
sions for the future. Up to this hour matters had not 
worn so gloomy an aspect. Together, we had felt com- 
paratively strong ; in the prospect of separation, des- 
pondent enough. The day dragged heavily along. . . . 

"At evening, the non-commissioned officers and 
privates were taken down into the prison yard, paroled 
not to bear arms again until exchanged, and returned 
to their cells. These were in the same corridor with 
our own : all the doors within it were kept open, and 
we could pass freely among them. It was rumored 
that they were to go to Columbia in the morning ; 
whether we should accompany them we did not hear. 
Even when we were all ordered down to the yard at 
five o'clock the next morning, we thought it was only 
that our quarters might be cleaned. The roll was 
called, and we were formed in line for a march. It 
was hard thus to be separated so much farther from 
Henry, without the opportunity 01 exchanging a word 



FROM CHARLESTON TO COLUMBIA. I 5 I 

with him, so much as to say good-by. Parting thus 
in an enemy's country, a hundred miles and more of 
distance to be placed between us, the prospect of our 
ever meeting again seemed doubtful and distant. He 
would not even know of my going until I was far 
away : it was the climax of all I had dreaded. We 
were marched to the depot, put on board the cars, and 
the train started almost immediately." 

The party reached Columbia that night, and were 
taken at once to Richland Jail, where they found the 
officers captured in the first assault on Wagner. 

"We and our new fellow-prisoners introduced our- 
selves to one another," wrote Camp, " talked over, as 
in the Charleston prison, all the news we brought; and 
we speedily began to feel ourselves comparatively at 
home in accommodations far superior to those we 
had left. At three-quarters past eight, the bell in the 
tower of the town-hall, only a few rods distant, rang 
rapidly for a few minutes, — the signal, we were told, 
for negroes to leave the streets. As the clock struck 
the last stroke of nine, the watchman in the balcony 
beneath it called aloud, with curious inflection of tone, 
' Past nine o'clock.' We took the hint and retired. 
At quarter-past nine, the watchman's voice sounded 
again, ' All's well ! ' In fifteen minutes more, ' Half- 
past nine o'clock ! ' Again, 'All's well ! ' Then,' Past 
ten o'clock ! ' and so through the night, — though for 
my part I hardly heard him once. 

" The next day passed slowly. I was still exceed- 



152 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

ingly nervous, and full of anxiety on account of my 
separation from Henry. I spent a large part of the 
time pacing up and down the room, and fancying what 
might be, and might have been, until I was tired 
enough to sit down upon the floor and rest. I wrote 
to Henry that afternoon, giving the letter to the cap- 
tain of the guard, with that which I wrote home." 
In that letter to his friend, Camp said, hopefully : 
" No one here seems to know of or believe in any 
interruption of the arrangements for exchange. The 
Charleston papers mention recent exchanges at the 
West, and I hope we may be put rapidly around the 
track. Wouldn't it be pleasant to meet on our own 
side of the lines within two or three weeks ? I do not 
flatter myself that this is certainly to be. I know that 
months of imprisonment and separation may be before 
us ; but I try to look, as far as it is reasonable to do 
so, upon the bright side, and succeed in this much 
better than at first. But for my anxiety on your 
account, I should be in good spirits ; even as it is, I do 
not call myself blue. We are both in God's hands. 
He has dealt with us very kindly hitherto; let us trust 
him for the future. I do believe that he will permit 
us again to stand side by side in our country's service; 
and, whatever else may be his decree, that we shall 
see by and by that all was for the best. I have been 
wont so to lean upon you, that I feel sadly the loss of 
your support; but our attachment to one another 
grows stronger through trial, and there are bright 



REUNION IN JAIL. I 53 

days yet in store for us. Meantime, take courage. 
There is much to be done. I know you will not break 
down, however hard the struggle. I trust I shall not 
until we come ' out of the shadow into the sun.' " 

" By Thursday," continued Camp, in his home narra- 
tive, " I had begun to settle down somewhat more into 
my position. I contrived to find occupation for most 
of my time, and made up my mind that, if Henry and 
I were only here together, we could not merely endure, 
but enjoy, the life. I thought it all over : it was utterly 
impossible that his services at the hospital would be 
dispensed with until all the wounded were dead or 
convalescent. That would be months, and the trial 
would be more than he could endure : how doubtful 
the prospect of our ever meeting again ! That doubt, 
and nothing else, made the future too dark to bear 
anticipation. Friday morning, about ten o'clock, the 
door opened, and he came in. Oh, what a meeting 
for us that was ! I sha'n't try to tell you anything 
about it. The day was gone before we knew it, and 
all that have followed have flown like it. Imprison- 
ment is not tedious with him for a companion. I lean 
upon him as everywhere, and he so much more than 
doubles my strength ! We read together, write 
together, whittle together, talk together, do every- 
thing together. The value of our friendship could 
hardly appear elsewhere as it does here ; nowhere else 
could we be so thoroughly inseparable or so greatly 
dependent upon one another. 



154 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

" Our life is so different from that of those around 
us ! The ennui which oppresses them we know noth- 
ing about : so far from it, we have not time for all that 
we would do ; and unfinished work accumulates from 
day to day. The hardships we must undergo are so 
far lightened, that we can fairly say that we enjoy 
prison life. It won't do, here in prison, to give even 
thought free scope, — not that others attempt to limit 
it ; but we ourselves, for our own sakes, must do so. 

" I say we enjoy prison life : it is because we will not 
think. If we allowed ourselves to imagine what we 
are losing by absence from our regiment at such a time 
as this — the time and occasion to which we have been 
looking forward for tedious months of inactivity — the 
prospect of which has kept us cheerful and hopeful 
through many perplexities and disappointments (and 
you know how bitter to me already is the thought of 
Roanoke, Goldsborough, Whitehall, and Kinston) ; if 
we dwelt upon the difficulty, perhaps impossibility, 
of communicating with you ; our anxiety in regard to 
your health and welfare, and that which we know 
you must be feeling for us ; the loss we are sustaining 
in property, which none in the regiment can attend to 
as is needful ; the doubtful prospect of release in the 
unfortunate condition of affairs between our own 
authorities and the Confederate, in regard to prisoners 
of war ; the possibility of months, or even years, of 
close confinement, — if we brooded over all these, and 
the multitude of other subjects for sad thought, we 



LIFE IN PRISON. I 55 

should drive ourselves crazy in twenty-four hours. It 
took us some little time to learn this ; but now we 
understand it, and manage to busy our thoughts in 
great measure with the trivial matters of every-day life 
in prison. What is the quality of the corn-bread this 
morning ? Who shall go after the pail of water ? 
How long will the sergeant allow us to stay in the 
yard for air and exercise ? — these are the questions to 
which we give our attention. When the mind craves 
more than this, we sit down to write or talk on mis- 
cellaneous subjects. Nine or ten hours for sleep, and 
so we live." 

Henry Camp was a man of mark in prison as else- 
where. The most haughty Southern officer with 
whom he came in contact recognized his true nobility, 
and gave him deference ; while the more brutal of his 
guards were softened into respectful treatment of him 
by the irresistible power of his commanding presence. 
His fellow-prisoners respected and esteemed him. 
The treasures of his stored and well-trained intellect 
were much in demand. In the lack of books during 
the early prison months, frequent questions of dispute 
arose as to points of fact, principles of science, or sub- 
jects of general reading ; and he was rarely referred 
to in vain for authority as to the truth. German offi- 
cers were there ; and, when their language was under- 
taken as a study, they were surprised at his knowledge 
of its structure, and the rules governing its use, espe- 
cially as he disavowed any claim to be called a German 



156 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

scholar. He played chess, and, although pitted against 
some skilful antagonists, proved himself more thor- 
oughly the master of the game than any of his oppo- 
nents, — being often successful, single-handed, against 
several of the best players in consultation. 

His intimacy with the chaplain was closer, and, if 
possible, more noticeable, in prison than elsewhere. 
Outside, the two had been called the " twins." In 
confinement, the old negro woman who daily brought 
in rations spoke of them uniformly as " de mates ; " 
and they were thenceforward thus designated by their 
companions. The sentries spoke to others by name, 
but to these as "you two;" always allowing them 
liberty together, as if they had but one existence. The 
chaplain was permitted to go out on the Sabbath into 
the yard, or upstairs, to preach to the Union privates. 
The officers, except Adjutant Camp, were not at first 
allowed to attend these services. " You two can go ; 
nobody else," was the usual announcement. The 
friends were rarely an arm's length from each other in 
all their months of confinement together. And while 
for weary weeks the chaplain was low with jail-fever, 
as also when he was disheartened and depressed with 
long confinement, he owed, under God, his life and 
renewed strength to the gentle and faithful ministry, 
and the inspiring words and brave example, of his 
peerless friend. 

But few Union officers have been confined in Co- 
lumbia Jail. Not more than about thirty were together 



NEW COMERS. I 57 

there at any time during the stay of the two friends. 
At first there were only those captured in the two 
assaults on Wagner. Then Captain, now Lieutenant- 
Colonel Payne, of the One Hundredth New York, 
was brought in from the hospital, having been wounded 
and taken in one of his daring scouts up Charleston 
Harbor. Afterwards came the naval officers of the 
unsuccessful assaulting party against Sumter, including 
Lieutenants S. W. Preston and B. H. Porter, who lost 
their lives at Fort Fisher so soon after their release. 
Chaplain Fowler, of Colonel Higginson's First South 
Carolina Regiment, was the next new-comer. Few 
besides these have been there within the past two 
years. The extensive prison-pens outside the city 
were of later origin. The enlisted men taken at Wag- 
ner, and the sailors and marines taken at Sumter, 
remained but a short time at Columbia before being 
forwarded to Belle Island to suffer through the winter. 
The rations furnished the officers were, at first, 
cooked by colored women, coming in from outside by 
permission of the guard; then, as money grew scarce, 
the officers cooked for themselves, taking turns in the 
kitchen a week at a time. United States treasury-notes 
were easily exchanged for Confederate currency, at the 
rate of one to four or five, notwithstanding the rigid 
orders against such barter. Newspapers were contra- 
band for several months, but they could usually be ob- 
tained, in spite of official commands to the contrary. 
Finally, permission was granted for their daily purchase. 



I58 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

For a while there was a prospect of exchanges being 
resumed; but, as the chances of that diminished, plans 
of escape were talked over. Camp chafed under a 
sense of confinement, and in view of his loss of active 
service. " I have put to you," he wrote home, " that 
side of prison life which is least dark ; but how gladly 
would I exchange for this any imaginable privation or 
suffering in freedom ! My experience in or out of the 
army has never as yet furnished anything resembling 
it. God grant it never again may, if the end of this 
finds me still living! Not that I am especially blue 
just now: far more cheerful than a great part of the 
time hitherto. I fully realize how much worse off I 
might and may be ; but this is captivity — a word whose 
meaning I have but lately learned. . . . Just now, it is 
not so much the mere fact of confinement, as the 
knowledge that we are losing opportunities that life 
can never replace. A day of freedom and activity in 
times like these is worth a year of the old inaction 
which used, you know, so to discontent me. But this 
is just the one thing which it won't do for me to think 
or write of." 

He determined to risk everything in an attempt to 
rejoin his regiment. The chaplain's sickness at first 
interfered with the project : then the announcement 
that the latter was to be released induced its postpone- 
ment until he should pass the lines, and send back 
certain desired information. 

Early in November the two friends were separated 



THOUGHTS OF HOME. I 59 

by the removal of the chaplain to Richmond for release. 
The parting was a sad one to both, — scarcely less so 
to the one who was to regain liberty by the change, 
than to the other who was to remain a prisoner. The 
hours would have dragged even yet more wearily to 
the chaplain but for his hope to secure, by untiring 
endeavor, his friend's release on special parole. 

On the Sunday evening before Thanksgiving, Camp 
wrote in his one-page home-letter : " Sabbath hours 
drag even more slowly than those of the other days of 
the week. To-day has been long ; it is almost bed- 
time now. We had singing earlier in the evening, — 
old, familiar hymns and tunes; and I wondered if you 
were not singing at the same time, as we used to, 
gathered around the piano in the east room. You 
have gas there now: it wouldn't look quite natural to 
me. I would like to sit in the sofa-corner, almost in 
the dark, and hear Nellie and Kate in that duet I 
always liked so much, — ' Far o'er the wave ; ' and then 
join, all of us together, in ' Lenox,' or ' Coronation,' or 
some of those stirring old Methodist melodies, winding 
up with ' Homeward Bound.' Do you remember our 
singing, ' When shall we meet again ? ' the last Sabbath 
evening that I was at home ? How little we imagined 
then that Thanksgiving week of this year would find 
us separated by any such cause as now ! Thank God 
that it is not death, which would have seemed so much 
more probable; and that we may yet hope another 
Thanksgnvino- will find us together in an unbroken 



l60 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

circle!" [That next Thanksgiving he passed in his 
heavenly home.] 

While the chaplain was laboring for his friend's 
release, the latter was perfecting his plans of escape; 
and, in a little more than a month after the separation 
of the two, he left the jail with a comrade; but, after a 
week in the woods, both were recaptured, and re- 
manded to their former quarters. From Camp's full 
record of that exciting adventure, written out in the 
leisure of later days in jail, the following extracts are 
made: 

"The possibility of escape was a subject of thought 
and conversation among us quite early in our imprison- 
ment. After Henry's departure, I made up my mind 
to try the experiment as soon as matters seemed ripe 
for it. The reports of exchange just at hand, which 
coaxed us into hope from week to week, for four 
months, no longer tantalized us. I was exceedingly 
restless and impatient. There was scarcely a day of 
which I did not spend more than one hour in thinking 
of the possibilities and probabilities of the attempt ; 
and many a night did my bed-fellow and I lie awake 
after others had gone to sleep, and discuss the merits 
of various plans. I used to pace our empty front room, 
and think of the sluggish wretchedness of our life here, 
and the joy of freedom gained by our own efforts, — 
the same round of thought over and over again — until 
I was half wild with the sense of restraint and of suffo- 
cation. 




ti±±±n 







,^i 



A PLAN OF ESCAPE. l6l 

" Our plan, as finally agreed upon, was simple. 
Twice during the day we were allowed half an hour in 
the yard for exercise, being counted when we came in, 
or soon after, to assure the sergeant of the guard that 
we were all present. In this yard was a small brick 
building, 1 consisting of two rooms used as kitchens, — 
one by ourselves, the other by the naval officers. The 
latter of these had a window opening into a woodshed, 
from which, part of the side being torn away, there 
was access to a narrow space between another small 
building and the jail fence. Our intention was to 
enter this kitchen during our half-hour of liberty, as 
we were frequently in the habit of doing, to talk with 
those who were on duty for the day, remain there after 
the cooks had gone in, leaving lay-figures to be 
counted in our stead by the sergeant ; thence through 
the woodshed, and, by removing a board of the high 
fence, already loosened for the purpose, into the adjoin- 
ing premises, from which we could easily gain the 
street. The latter part of the movement — all of it, 
indeed, except the entrance into the kitchen, where we 
were to remain quiet for several hours — was to be 
executed after dark. 

"The street once gained, my comrade and I intended 
to take the railroad running northward along the 
banks of the Broad River, follow it during the first 
night, while our escape was still undiscovered, then 

1 Shown in the engraving on the opposite page. 
II 



l62 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

strike as direct a course as possible for the North 
Carolina line. Through the latter state we hoped to 
make our way westward across the mountains, where 
we should find friends as well as enemies, ultimately- 
reaching Burnside's lines in East Tennessee. The 
distance to be passed over we estimated at about three 
hundred miles; the time which it would occupy, at 
from twenty to thirty days. The difficulties in our 
way were very great, the chances for and against us 
we considered certainly no better than equal. What 
would be the results of failure, we could not antici- 
pate ; loss of life certainly was not the least likely of 
them. 

" Our preparations for such a trip were, of necessity, 
few. We manufactured a couple of stout cloth haver- 
sacks, in which, though hardly as large as the army 
pattern, we were to carry ten days' provision, — each 
of us two dozen hard-boiled eggs, and about six quarts 
of what we found described in ' Marcy's Prairie Trav- 
eler ' as the most nutritious and portable of all food, — 
corn parched and ground, — just what we children 
used to call ' rokeeg.' Besides a rubber blanket to 
each, we concluded, for the sake of light traveling, to 
carry but a single woolen one. This, with one or two 
other articles of some bulk, we placed in a wash-tub 
and covered with soiled clothes, in order to convey 
them, without exciting suspicion, to the kitchen. My 
baggage for the journey, besides what has already 
been referred to, consisted of an extra pair of cotton 



NERVOUS WAITING. 1 63 

socks, a comb, toothbrush, and piece of soap, needle 
and thread, a piece of stout cloth, a flask about 
one-third full of excellent brandy, a piece of lard, a 
paper of salt, pencil and paper, and my home photo- 
graphs. 

"Two dummies (or lay-figures) were to be made. 
The first was a mere pile of blankets; but its position 
in the second story of our double-tier bedstead pro- 
tected it from close observation. For the second, I 
borrowed a pair of pants, and for one foot found a cast- 
off shoe. The upper part of the figures was covered 
with a blanket, and the face with a silk handkerchief; 
attitude was carefully attended to. I flattered myself 
that the man was enough of a man for pretty sharp 
eyes, and was satisfied when Lieutenant B. came in, 
and unsuspectingly addressed him by the name of the 
officer whose pants he wore. . . . 

"After the last thing was done which could be done 
in the way of preparation, time passed very slowly. I 
was impatiently nervous, and spent the hours in pacing 
the rooms and watching the sluggish clock-hands. The 
excitement of anticipation was hardly less than that 
which I have felt before an expected fight. The per- 
sonal stake at issue was little different." 

Camp's comrade in this venturesome move was Cap- 
tain Valentine B. Chamberlain, of the Seventh Con- 
necticut. " Well informed (an ex-editor), plucky, and 
of excellent physique, well calculated to endure hard- 
ship, and a good swimmer. He was that day on duty 



164 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

in the kitchen. At 4 P. M., we went out, as usual, for 
exercise. Entering the kitchen a few minutes before 
our half-hour had expired, I concealed myself in a snug 
corner, before which one or two towels, a huge tin 
boiler, and other convenient articles, were so disposed 
as to render the shelter complete should so unusual 
an event occur as a visit from the guard after that 
hour. Here, like another Ivanhoe in the beleagured 
castle, I received a running report of the course of 
events outside from the culinary gentlemen, who had, 
in their present costume and occupation, about as little 
resemblance to United States officers as to the fair 
Jewess of the story. 

" It was but a few minutes before the corporal, act- 
ing for the day as sergeant, was seen to enter the room 
to which all but the cooks and myself had returned. 
It was Corporal Addison, alias ' Bull-Head,' a lubberly 
English clodhopper, looking just like the men in the 
illustrations to Miss Hannah More's stories. Our 
confidence that all would go well was based in great 
measure upon his stupidity ; and it was with greatly 
increased apprehensions that I heard that he was ac- 
companied to-night by Captain Senn [the commandant 
of the post guard]. 

" Rather than pass the ordeal of a visit from him, 
had we anticipated it, we should probably have deferred 
our attempt another day, even at the risk of losing our 
chance altogether. He opened the door and went in. 
I waited anxiously to hear what would follow. He 



ALMOST DISCOVERED. 1 65 

seemed to stay longer than usual. Was there any- 
thing wrong ? Suspense lengthened the minutes ; but 
it was of no use to question those who could see, 
while the door remained closed, no more than myself. 
Presently I was told that the door was open ; he was 
coming out; there seemed to be no alarm; he was 
stepping briskly toward the yard. We breathed more 
freely. A moment more, and he was going back, evi- 
dently dissatisfied with something. He re-entered the 
room. ' It's all up,' said my reporter. I thought my- 
self that there was little doubt of it, and prepared, the 
moment any sign of alarm appeared, to come from my 
retreat, which I preferred to leave voluntarily rather 
than with the assistance of a file of men. Too bad to 
be caught at the very outset, without so much as a 
whiff of the air of freedom to compensate us for the 
results of detection! But no: Captain Senn comes 
quietly out, walks leisurely through the hall, and his 
pipe is lit — best evidence in the world that all is tran- 
quil, his mind undisturbed by anything startling or 
unexpected. 

" But it was too soon to exult ; congratulations were 
cut short by sudden silence on the part of my friends. 
I listened : it was broken by a step on the threshold, 
and the voice of the captain close beside me. I didn't 
hold my breath, according to the established precedent 
in all such cases ; but I sat for a little while as still as 
I did the first time that ever my daguerreotype was 
taken ; then, cautiously moving my head, I caught a 



1 66 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

view of the visitor as he stood hardly more than at 
arm's length from me. He was merely on a tour of 
inspection ; asked a few unimportant questions of the 
cooks, and, after a brief call, took his leave. It was 
with more than mere physical relief that I stretched 
myself, and took a new position in my somewhat 
cramped quarters. Immediate danger was over ; we 
had nothing more to fear until the cooks went in. 
We listened anxiously, until it seemed certain that all 
danger from another visit and the discovery of Captain 
Chamberlain's absence was over ; then sat down to wait 
for a later hour. . . . 

" After perhaps an hour of quiet, we set about what 
little was to be done before we were ready to leave the 
building — the rolling of our blankets, not yet taken 
from the tub in which they had been brought out, the 
filling of our haversacks, etc. To do this in perfect 
silence was no easy task. Any noise made was easily 
audible outside ; the window looking toward the jail 
had no sash, and the blinds which closed it failed to 
meet in the center. A sentry stood not far distant. 
More than once, startled by the loud rattling of the 
paper which we were unwrapping from our provisions, 
or the clatter of some dish inadvertently touched in 
the darkness, we paused, and anxiously peeped through 
the blinds to see if the sentry had noticed it. The 
possibility of any one's being in the kitchen at that 
hour was probably the last thought to enter his mind. 
Many times we carefully felt our way around the 



NEW OBSTACLES. \6j 

room, — stocking-foot and tiptoe, — searching for some 
article laid down perhaps but a moment before, lost, 
without the aid of eyesight to recover it, until at 
length we thought ourselves ready to pass into the 
adjoining room, whose window opened upon the 
woodshed. 

" The only communication between these rooms was 
by a small hole broken through the chimney-back, 
scarcely large enough to admit the body, and with the 
passage further embarrassed by the stoves on either 
side, so placed that it was necessary to lie down, and 
move serpent-wise for a considerable distance. Cap- 
tain Chamberlain made the first attempt, and discovered 
that the door of the stove on the opposite side had 
been left open, and wedged in that position by the 
wood, crowded in for the morning's fire, so that the 
passage was effectually obstructed. The hole had to 
be enlarged by the tearing away of more bricks, which, 
as fast as removed, he handed to me to be laid on one 
side. Patient labor at length made a sufficient open- 
ing, and he passed through. I handed to him the 
blankets, haversacks, and shoes, and with some diffi- 
culty followed." 

The woodshed gained, the loosened board was 
removed from the fence, and replaced after they had 
passed through. Across a kitchen-garden they hur- 
ried to the open street beyond, and then, without meet- 
ing any person, through Columbia to the railroad. 

" Reaching the iron track, we turned northward, 



1 68 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

and were speedily out of sight of houses, fairly started 
upon our journey through the country. I wish I 
could describe the sensation of pleasure that thrilled 
through every fiber of our frames with an exhilaration 
like that of wine ! After five months of confinement, of 
constant and unavailing chafing under the galling con- 
sciousness of restraint and of helplessness, we could 
hardly realize that we were free ; that we should not 
wake in the morning to find ourselves within the nar- 
row jail limits, under the eyes and the orders of our 
old sentries. To be again the masters of our own acts 
was like being endowed with a new faculty. We 
breathed deep and long. We could have shouted with 
the excitement of each free step upon solid earth — 
each draught of free air under the open sky. That 
first hour of liberty would alone have paid for all the 
hardships we were to encounter. I shall have pleasant 
memory of it as long as I live. 

"Our path led us along the banks of Broad River, 
the dash of whose waters was constantly in our ears, 
and whose swift current we could often see in the clear 
starlight, rushing down in rapids, or foaming around 
huge rocks. Such sights and sounds we had not 
known since we left our New England homes ; and 
we enjoyed to the full, not only these, but each bush 
that we passed, each little stream that flowed across 
the way, each thicket of dark undergrowth, or hillside 
covered with forest, that lifted itself beyond ; all was 
fresh to us. 



A PERILOUS PATH. 1 69 

" It was a cold night — just the temperature, how- 
ever, for walking, and upon a good path we should 
have made rapid progress. But the ties were laid 
upon the surface of the ground instead of being sunk, 
and were at the most inconvenient distance possible 
from one another. This was not the worst. Before 
we had gone two miles we came to what seemed to be 
a stream of some size, crossed by a trestle-work bridge. 
We must pass it by stepping from tie to tie. It was 
difficult to see in the darkness how far beneath us the 
water flowed, but it was evidently at no inconsiderable 
depth, and the light was none too strong to enable us 
to plant our footsteps with a feeling of security. We 
supposed, however, that a short distance would place 
us again upon solid ground, and pushed on slowly and 
carefully. We were disappointed. Beyond the current 
of the stream was a wide marsh, stretching as far as 
we could see, and across this lay our road. It was 
many minutes of tedious traveling before we again 
reached firm footing. 

While we were congratulating ourselves that our 
trouble was over, we were cut short by a second 
bridge, of similar structure, but higher, if anything, 
than the first, and certainly longer. Beneath us we 
could scarcely see anything save a black gulf; be- 
fore us, the track vanishing, at a few rods' distance, 
into darkness. To add to the difficulty, many of the 
ties were rotten to such a degree that we dared not 
trust our weight upon the center of them ; many dis- 



170 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

placed, so that it was not easy to pass the chasm cre- 
ated by their absence. 

"We walked on and on, expecting every minute to 
see the end, but no end came in sight — the distance 
seemed interminable. I might overstate if I should 
attempt to estimate accurately the length and number 
of these bridges over which we passed during the 
night, the nervousness of the task being increased 
toward morning by a heavy white-frost, which made 
the footing still more uncertain ; but I am sure that I 
am within bounds in reckoning them by miles. . . . 
As morning drew near we were, of course, far more 
fatigued than by any ordinary eight hours of walking, 
and had made much less progress than we hoped to 
make, before daylight should render it necessary to 
take shelter in the woods. We were both thoroughly 
exhausted with long-unaccustomed exercise, and could 
scarcely walk without staggering. We looked at one 
another, and were astonished at the haggard faces and 
weary forms which we saw." 

After some difficulty in finding a sufficiently secluded 
place for a rest, they at length reached a spot which 
seemed to answer their purpose. 

" The roots of an uptorn tree upon one side, the trunk 
of a fallen one upon another, with a sheltering hillock 
and surrounding undergrowth, furnished us with such 
protection that a passer-by, even within a few paces, 
would not have been likely to see us. We were too 
tired to eat. We spread a rubber blanket upon the 



IMAGINARY DANGERS. l"J\ 

ground, a woolen one over us, and, with our haver- 
sacks for pillows, were speedily sleeping as we had not 
done before since we left Morris Island, and exchanged 
a life of hard work for a harder one of inaction. How 
long we had slept when I awoke, I could not tell ; but 
I was too thoroughly chilled to rest longer. I listened 
before I raised my head, lest there might be some one 
near. What was that crackling of the dry leaves at a 
little distance ? I closed my eyes again and lay still. 
Surely those were cautious footsteps that seemed to 
draw near and halt, and then retreat again. Then all 
was quiet. I woke Captain Chamberlain, telling him 
I feared we were discovered, and perhaps at that mo- 
ment watched. Even if we were, however, it was of 
no use to wait, and we rose. No one in sight. We 
searched the bushes in the direction of the sound. No 
sign of any one's having been there ; and, after a few 
minutes, we convinced ourselves that it was a false 
alarm. It was not the only one which we raised for 
one another during the day, nervously suspicious as 
we were of every cracking bough, every moving object. 
Once Captain Chamberlain pointed out to me a soldier 
in gray uniform behind some bushes only a few rods 
distant, evidently watching us. But, before I could 
make him out, he resolved himself into his harmless 
components of tree-trunk and branch. 

" We rolled our blankets in convenient form to sling 
across the shoulder, and, much refreshed, although 
with joints somewhat stiff and lame, started again 



172 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

northward, intending to halt for breakfast as soon as 
sunshine and exercise should warm our blood a little. 
It was not long before circulation was brisk again ; and 
a sunny hillside furnished us with a breakfast-room, 
which, to say the least of it, compared favorably with 
that we had occupied the morning before. Then we 
made the first trial of our patent provisions. The eggs, 
with salt for seasoning, were capital, but our stock was 
limited. We allowed ourselves one each, — the bulk 
of our meal consisting of the rokeeg. Palatable enough 
we found it, albeit somewhat dry, and it proved exceed- 
ingly nutritious. A day or two later, after it had been 
dampened and dried again, partially at least, it was 
almost entirely tasteless, and had no more relish or 
even food-flavor, than so much sawdust. We could 
only tell when we had eaten enough by estimating the 
quantity which had vanished or the time consumed 
in the operation. Still, it supported our strength as 
hardly anything else in the same quantity could have 
done, and we were ready to indorse Captain Marcy's 
recommendation of it. 

" Rest and food had made new men of us. We 
pushed cheerily along through wood, over hill, and 
across field. The traveling was neither very difficult, 
nor easy enough to admit of rapid progress. The 
woods were quite open, and we frequently crossed 
cultivated land. Houses frequently interrupted us, and 
much time was consumed in the long circuit we had 
to make to pass them without danger of being ob- 



A TRAVELED ROAD. 1 73 

served. The country was altogether too thickly set- 
tled for our convenience. About 2 P. M. we found 
ourselves fairly brought to a stand-still — open country 
before us with houses in sight, and no way of getting 
through under cover. 

" We found an excellent shelter, well protected, 
although near a road; lay down behind an old long- 
neglected wood-pile and slept again, woke, dined, and 
waited for dark. As soon as it was fairly dusk, we 
started once more upon our course. We soon reached 
a road, upon which, during the afternoon, we had ob- 
served a rider moving along at some distance, — the 
first man we had seen since leaving jail. We hesitated 
whether to follow this route or attempt to push 
through the woods in the dark. We had not intended 
to venture upon the roads after the first night, but 
considering the chance that our escape was still undis- 
covered, and the difficulty of making any progress 
otherwise, we concluded to run the risk, exercising the 
utmost possible caution with reference to avoiding any 
whom we might meet." 

Having a narrow escape from detection by a pass- 
ing horseman, they pressed on, until, across a curve 
in the road, they saw the lights of a house, and their 
quick ears caught the sound of steps and voices from 
within or near it. 

"Approaching this place, in addition to the voices 
so distinctly heard through the quiet night air, we 
could see near it the bright glare of a fire kindled out 



174 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

of doors, — perhaps a tar-kiln or a coal-pit blazing up. 
This we must avoid, and we turned aside accordingly 
into the woods. It was a tedious circuit that we had 
to make before we could leave them safely. We 
stumbled over rock and fallen tree, in the darkness of 
the dense undergrowth ; plunged into brook and 
swamp; tore our way through wildernesses of briers, 
from which we came out with bleeding hands and 
tattered clothing, making so slow and so difficult 
progress, that we were more than ever disposed, in the 
absence of any positive evidence of danger, to keep 
the traveled route whenever it was possible." 

Thenceforward they followed the woods by day, and 
the road by night. At the close of their second day's 
journey, to their sincere regret, it began to rain. 

"At 4 P. M. the first drops fell. Darkness came 
on almost immediately, and we took an oblique direc- 
tion which we thought would bring us in a few min- 
utes back to the road which we had crossed shortly 
before dinner, and parallel to which we had been 
traveling for several hours. But either the road 
curved sharply from us, or we had wandered farther 
from it than we thought. We reached a swamp, 
which certainly, from what we remembered of the 
conformation of the land, ought not to lie between us 
and the line which we wished to strike. There was 
no passage but to wade through. Dense thickets 
obstructed our way; rain and darkness made each 
obstacle more serious; and we were additionally puz- 



AN INVISIBLE OX -TEAM. 1 75 

zled by the possibility that a traveled path which we 
had crossed some time before, thinking it from its 
appearance a by-way, might have been the road itself, 
and that we were now only plunging ourselves deeper 
and deeper into the woods. Still we pushed on, un- 
willing to believe ourselves lost, and were greatly 
relieved, after a tedious and discouraging tramp, in 
coming out at length upon what was unmistakably 
the track for which we had been so long searching. 

"The rain had not yet injured the walking, and we 
made for a while rapid progress. Just after descend- 
ing a gentle hill, while crossing a stretch of low 
ground, we heard what seemed to be the rattle of a 
cart on the slope behind us, and the loud and distinct 
voice of a man calling to his oxen. We made all 
haste to shelter ourselves ; and, having done so by 
lying down behind some logs near the roadside, waited 
for the passage of the team. All was still : not a 
sound of life anywhere to be heard. We were almost 
ready to rise, thinking, in spite of our ears, that we 
must have been mistaken; when the voice, full and 
clear, came once more down the road, apparently close 
at hand. We lay quiet : there were no indications of 
its owner's approach. We waited patiently: nothing 
broke the silence of the night, except the patter of the 
rain, and the sighing of a low wind which accompanied 
it. Convinced, at length, that it was useless to remain 
longer concealed, we rose, and went on our way. It 
would be hardly more than a fair exercise of the 



I76 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

privilege belonging to every chronicler of his own 
travels, to give to this Southern Sleepy Hollow its 
spectral darkey and fractious yoke of goblin two-year- 
olds, which it deserves, and for which the time and 
circumstances were fitting. I certainly know of no 
other way of accounting for the facts just set forth. 

"The roads were well furnished with guide-posts; 
but they were tall, and the pitchy darkness of the 
night made it impossible to read their directions from 
the ground. Half a dozen of these, with the assistance 
of a lift from Captain Chamberlain's broad shoulders, 
I climbed during the night, — awkward business enough, 
with their sharp angles and smooth wet sides; but the 
information they gave us was invaluable." 

Two or three times in the course of the evening or 
night, they were seen by passers on the road, without 
special notice being taken of them. After more than 
twenty miles of travel since the morning, they stopped 
in the rain for greatly needed rest. 

"At the division of two plantations, near a gateway, 
we found at length a fence-angle, where, by laying 
across it two or three rails, and bending down a 
couple of saplings, we made for ourselves a seat, and 
a support upon which we could rest our heads. Wrap- 
ping the woolen blanket about us, throwing one of 
the rubbers across our shoulders, and drawing the 
other over our heads, we were tolerably protected 
from the rain, though not from the wind. In this 
way, too, we could keep our provisions dry : had we 



CRAMPED AND CHILLED. I 77 

attempted to lie down, ourselves and our haversacks 
would speedily have been drenched together. 

" We dropped asleep, in spite of the cold, in a very 
few minutes, and slept soundly for some time. Waking 
again about two o'clock in the morning, we found 
ourselves chilled to the bone, and suffering from a 
species of cramp that made it impossible for us to 
remain longer in the position where we were. There 
was no prospect, however, of altering our situation for 
the better if we should move, since it had been with 
difficulty that we had found even our present resting- 
place. We opened our haversacks, and food restored 
the blood in some degree to its circulation. With 
this relief we contented ourselves as best we could, 
and succeeded in falling asleep again. When we woke 
once more, it was about four o'clock, still pitchy dark, 
and still raining ; but we determined to move on, — 
anything rather than remain where we were. We 
could hardly rise from the rails on which we were 
sitting; and, when we attempted to walk, so cramped 
and numb was every muscle, that it was with difficulty 
we could drag one foot after the other. 

" It was not my first experience of bivouacking 
under a winter's storm. Our North Carolina cam- 
paigns were in cold weather ; and some of the nights 
then spent we thought at the time sufficiently hard : 
but none of them compared with this. Exercise sup- 
pled our joints somewhat; but we had gained very 
little of strength or rest during our halt, and we made 



1^8 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

our way slowly along the road through mud deeper 
and more tenacious than it had been at midnight. 
After a mile or two of this, we were glad to find an- 
other resting-place, — a fence-corner, much like that 
we had left ; and here we rested until it began to 
grow light. 

"Taking the path again, we came before long to a 
large barnyard, where one or two cows stood patiently 
waiting for the morning milking. It seemed a pity 
that they should be compelled to wait longer for the 
lazy farmer whose duty it was to attend to them. The 
natural kindness of our dispositions prompted us at 
once to relieve them, and save him from the disagree- 
able task, which he was doubtless postponing, this 
rainy morning, later than usual. With these benevo- 
lent motives, we began to climb the barnyard fence. 
But alas for our hopes of warm milk! Just at that 
moment the farmer vindicated his character for early 
rising by coming in sight, dimly visible through the 
mist, from behind a neighboring building. We did 
not wait to explain our intentions, or to apologize for 
the injustice we had done him, but executed a prompt 
movement to the rear." 

Finding a comfortable resting-place on a vine-shaded 
offset, halfway down the steep side of a dense-wooded 
ravine, above a small brook, they stopped, exhausted 
after their wearisome night, to wait until the storm 
abated. They built a fire, warmed their chilled limbs, 
partially dried their blanket and clothing, and at the 



BRIDGELESS STREAMS. 1 79 

brook washed their mire-coated stockings and shoes. 
Just before night, the storm, which had slackened 
during the day, resumed its force; and soon the rain 
poured in such torrents as to swell the brook to a 
sudden freshet. Again they were drenched to the 
skin, and their haversack of provisions was thoroughly 
soaked. Later, the violence of the storm subsided ; and 
they laid themselves down for the sleep which they 
must have, rain or no rain. They slept ten hours, and 
woke to find the sun shining in their faces through the 
tree-tops, and a clear sky overhead. They " were thor- 
oughly rested and in good condition for travel." The 
storm had cost them just one day, aside from the delay 
growing out of the condition of the roads and streams. 

Pressing on, they were seen by two negro boys, who 
were apparently afraid of them, and hurried off. In 
the afternoon, as they were concealed near a dwelling 
they could not pass until night, a private coach was 
driven by, then a country wagon ; and, later, a drover 
with cattle went along the road near them. 

At night they took in preference a by-road toward 
Baton Rouge, to avoid the larger towns on the main 
route northward ; but this involved the dispensing 
with bridges across streams. One stream they bridged 
with delay and difficulty ; a second was not to be 
crossed in this way. 

"In vain we wearied ourselves tramping up and 
down the half-liquid banks above and below ; it ran 
in a wide turbid flood which it was useless to think 



l8o THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

of bridging. It was a frosty December night; the 
ground was beginning to stiffen with the cold. We 
hesitated. Had there been any available resting-place 
near by, I fear we should have been found upon the 
wrong side of the stream when morning dawned; but 
we saw none, and that decided us. Making the neces- 
sary preparations, with much shivering we plunged 
in. After all, it was not so fearfully cold, nor was the 
water deep, save in a couple of holes, one near either 
bank. More than one trip was necessary to transport 
clothing, blankets, and provisions ; but it was soon 
over, and glad enough we were that we had not post- 
poned the ugly job as we were tempted to. We were 
pretty thoroughly benumbed ; but a little brandy (the 
only time during our journey we had occasion to use 
it) assisted exercise in restoring the circulation, and in 
half an hour we were as warm as ever. We traveled 
briskly that night, and had accomplished a good dis- 
tance when we turned aside into the pine woods on 
the left, built for ourselves a booth of pine and cedar 
boughs, quite a luxurious lodging-place, and slept till 
morning." 

Passing Baton Rouge, they took the Pinckneyville 
Road, and later turned toward Yorkville. The follow- 
ing night, they crossed Turkey Creek, and were dis- 
posed to attempt the passage of Broad River near 
Pinckneyville, but, becoming confused as to the route 
in the darkness, waited until morning. The weather 
grew colder, and they suffered from its severity. 



DISCOVERED AT LAST. 10 1 

"Our morning wakenings were the most cheerless 
moments of a day's experience. We woke, without 
the rest which came only after exercise had brought 
us warmth, numb and shivering; so that we could 
hardly roll our blankets or take the first few steps upon 
our journey. There was not a night during our trip 
in which we did not suffer from cold. This morning 
(Sunday) was the coldest we had encountered." 

They traveled until nearly noon, before finding just 
the place for a safe rest. Then they slept several 
hours. Resuming their journey soon after dark, they 
hoped within forty-eight hours to be beyond the limits 
of South Carolina, and in a region of comparative 
safety. 

"We had been walking an hour or two along an 
unfrequented road, when a negro rose apparently from 
a fence-corner, and followed us at a distance of a few 
paces. We slackened our gait to allow him to pass ; 
but he preserved the same interval whether we moved 
fast or slow. While we were still in doubt as to the 
meaning of these proceedings, a horseman rode up in 
front, making his appearance so suddenly, that even 
in the absence of our unwelcome attendant we should 
hardly have had time to conceal ourselves. He ad- 
dressed us politely ; and, after a few embarrassing 
questions which indicated his suspicion of us, he rode 
off at a gallop in the direction whence he had come. 
We looked at each other in dismay. That he sus- 
pected us and would soon return we had no doubt; 



1 82 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

but there were no woods at hand; and, if there had 
been, it would have been useless to enter them while 
dogged by our persevering follower. We were now 
opposite a graveyard of some size ; and it was evident 
from surrounding indications that we had come directly 
upon a village whose existence we had not suspected. 

"We had little time to consider: the sound of clat- 
tering hoofs came down the road behind us, and our 
former friend rode up with two companions. A few 
more questions were asked, a footman coming up 
meantime to join the party ; and the horsemen rode 
on, leaving their companion to walk behind us. We 
knew that our journey was at an end. They were 
waiting for us at the gate of a house a few hundred 
yards beyond ; reaching which, we were politely in- 
vited to walk in and exhibit our papers, with the 
assurance that they had authority for the request they 
made. ' Did we know anything of some Yankee 
officers who had recently escaped from Columbia ? ' 
We told them they need trouble themselves no farther : 
we were the men for whom they were looking." 

The recaptured officers were taken into the house, 
and given seats before the fire. They found that 
hounds were out in pursuit of them, and that the roads 
in every direction beyond were closely watched and 
guarded. 

" The report of the capture of Yankee officers spread 
like wildfire, and men gathered in for a look at the 
strange sight, until the room was nearly filled. It was 



PRISONER-GUESTS. 1 83 

amusing to see the curiosity manifested, and we felt 
specially complimented by a remark of Mr. McNeil's 
little girl, who had evidently been on the lookout for 
horns and hoofs. Finding us apparently harmless, 
she ventured timidly to the other side of the fireplace, 
and finally, after some coaxing, came across and stood 
shyly by my side, while I told her of my little sister 
at home, and astonished her with a small coin, the 
only specie, I will venture to say, that had been seen 
for a long time in that part of the Confederacy. She 
talked, like most Southern children, an unmitigated 
negro dialect. 'What sort of men did you think 
Yankees were?' asked I. 'I didn't tink,' said she, 
' dey was dat good-lookin' ! ' 

"The conversation turned upon politics; and the 
whole question of the war was discussed with perfect 
freedom on both sides. We talked with the utmost 
plainness, and were listened to courteously, though 
with a good deal of surprise and some incredulity. In 
the graveyard of this little hamlet, too small to occupy 
a place upon the map, were the bodies of twenty-two 
Confederate soldiers ; and there was hardly a man 
there but that either belonged to the army or had a 
son or brother connected with it. Mr. McNeil, our 
host, — for we were treated rather as guests than as 
prisoners, — was an elder of the Methodist Church. 
Few of those who talked with us took a sanguine view 
of their prospects ; and there were even indications 
that not all would consider failure the worst of calami- 



I84 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

ties. Most, however, were thoroughly in earnest for 
continued resistance ; nor, believing as they believed, 
should I have felt differently. They appreciated our 
desire for freedom, and were by no means disposed to 
blame us for attempting to escape. Even our captors, 
in their sympathy for us, seemed almost to regret that 
their duty compelled them to put an end to our hopes 
of regaining liberty. 

"After about an hour of conversation came the wel- 
come invitation to walk out to supper. This was 
served in a small room upon the opposite side of the 
entry, warmed only — since there was neither stove nor 
fireplace — by the heat of the smoking dishes which 
stood upon the table. A most attractive sight it was 
to us after months of prison fare, and a week of saw- 
dust. Beefsteak, ham and eggs, griddle-cakes, hot bis- 
cuit and fresh butter, wheat-coffee, etc., a clean white 
table-cloth, and a servant to wait upon table, seemed 
more homelike than anything we had seen for many 
a day. We had hardly known how cold and hungry 
we were until we came within reach of warm fire and 
appetizing food. Mr. McNeil's table looked as if it 
were spread for half a dozen men ; and it looked, when 
we left it, as if the half-dozen had been there. 

"Among other visitors to the house was a woman, 
who, surveying us with a severe countenance, sharply 
inquired of Captain Chamberlain, ' what kind of weather 
he called that for gathering broom-straws ? ' Captain 
Chamberlain, to whom the drift of the question was 



AN OPINION ON BROOM-STRAW. 1 85 

not obvious, mildly and with some wonderment re- 
plied, that it appeared to him somewhat cold weather 
for any branch of outdoor industry. With a manner 
indicative of the utmost animosity, she proceeded to 
observe that 'she would have us to know that gather- 
ing broom-straw was something she never had done, 
and, what was more, never would do ; not if she lived 
to be a hundred years old, she wouldn't ! ' Against an 
attack so vigorous and so mysterious, we were incapa- 
ble of defense ; and, after one or two remarks equally 
indignant and equally incomprehensible, our assailant 
retired, evidently much relieved in mind. It turned 
out that a party of five, to which we were supposed to 
belong, had met her servant in the field gathering 
broom-straw, and had taken it into their heads to send 
her home, with a message to her mistress, that, if she 
wanted the article, she might come and collect it her- 
self. Their sins had been visited upon our heads. 

"We were assigned quarters for sleeping in the huge 
feather-bed in the corner, while four men sat up 
through the night as guard. Our couch was most 
luxurious, and I was asleep before my head had been 
ten minutes on the pillow. Captain Chamberlain, 
whose readiness and force in argument had much im- 
pressed our listeners, and had been repeatedly com- 
plimented during the evening, lay awake long enough 
to hear some interesting remarks upon the discussion, 
and their expression of wonder that men in our cir- 
cumstances could rest as quietly as we seemed to be 



1 86 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

doing. For what reason I do not know, but it was 
not for some time after our capture, even after our 
return to Columbia, that the bitterness of disappoint- 
ment came in full force upon us. 

"After an excellent breakfast, preparations were 
made to take us to Chesterville, sixteen miles distant, 
the nearest place upon the railroad. We were between 
sixty and seventy miles from Columbia, though we 
had traveled, probably, about one hundred to reach 
the place of our capture. We were accompanied by 
a guard of four men ; so that we made quite a little 
cavalcade, mounted, some upon horses and some upon 
mules. For security, Captain Chamberlain and my- 
self were each lashed by one ankle to the stirrup- 
leather, — a precaution which had nearly resulted 
seriously. Captain Chamberlain's horse taking sud- 
den fright simultaneously with another, both riders 
were thrown. I thought for a moment that it was all 
up with my friend; but, happily, his saddle-girth had 
been broken, and tied up, in true Southern style, with 
a cotton string. This gave way as he fell, and freed 
him, saddle and all, from the plunging horse. 

"Not caring to run any further risk, I had my 
saddle-girth unbuckled, and met the mishap I might 
have expected. We stopped at a stream for a drink 
of water. I forgot the insecurity of my seat, and, 
leaning forward to receive a cup of water, threw my 
weight too far to one side. The saddle slipped; once 
displaced, it was in vain that I attempted to regain 



CHESTERVILLE JAIL. 1 87 

balance. Slowly, if not gracefully, we slid off to the 
ground; and the lashing had to be unloosed before I 
could remount. Our route led through a thickly set- 
tled region; and we were objects of no little curiosity 
to those who saw us as we passed, or met us upon the 
road." 

Reaching Chesterville, they were taken to the jail, 
followed by a constantly increasing crowd of towns- 
people. A cell was assigned them. 

" It was exceedingly filthy and repulsive in its ap- 
pearance. Upon the floor lay a tumbled heap of rags, 
scraps of carpeting, torn bagging, etc., which had 
evidently formed the bedding of the last inmate. An 
old pitcher stood in one corner. Of furniture, there 
was none whatever. The walls upon three sides were 
of heavy planking, well whittled, and ornamented with 
every variety of illustrations in charcoal, with now and 
then a long tally where some wretched occupant had 
kept weary account of the days of his imprisonment. 
The fourth side, opposite the door, was composed 
entirely of iron grating; so that every corner of the 
room could be inspected from the passage which ran 
around each tier of cells. We hoped that here we 
should at least have refuge from the not uniformly 
courteous curiosity of the crowd which had gathered 
around us; whose persistent gaze, as they followed 
us upstairs, and peeped through the small aperture in 
the door, we endeavored to avoid by stepping out of 
the range of vision which it afforded. But they were 



1 88 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

not to be balked in that way, and, in a moment more, 
were rushing into the passage-way, outside the grating, 
with looks and words of exultation that we could 
no longer evade them. We were fairly on exhibition. 
There they stood, and gazed through the bars, as at 
the wild animals in a menagerie; while we paced up 
and down our narrow limits with a restlessness which 
did not impair the likeness. The unwillingness we 
had shown to gratify them, no doubt increased their 
natural good-will toward Yankees; and questions and 
comments were by no means as few as the answers 
they received. At length the jail was cleared, and we 
were left to ourselves." . . . 

A better room was assigned them. 

" McDonnell the jailer, and one of his neighbors, a 
physician, spent the evening with us. The former 
was confident that, if he could have a few days' oppor- 
tunity for discussion, he could turn us from the error 
of our ways, and convince us of the justice of the Con- 
federate cause. We expressed some doubt on the 
subject; but he knew there was no question about it. 
Just let him explain the cause to us, and we couldn't 
help seeing that we were all wrong. He labored with 
us faithfully, albeit with a very misty comprehension 
of the theories he was endeavoring to establish, and a 
very slender knowledge of the facts at their basis; was 
in no whit discouraged by our flat denial of his prem- 
ises or disproval of his conclusions; and we left him, 
at our departure, in the full belief, that, if he could 



THE JAILERS FAMILY. 1 89 

only have had a little more time, he should infallibly 
have made sound rebels of us. 

"Blankets were sent to us in the course of the 
evening, and we slept very comfortably upon the floor 
before the fire. We had seen during the afternoon 
and evening most of the members of McDonnell's 
family. His eldest son, just below conscript age, but 
expecting to be drafted as soon as his birthday came, 
was a very kind-hearted fellow. He executed com- 
missions in town for us; lent us books; and, in every 
way, exerted himself to oblige us. He was entirely 
free from the boisterous bluster so apt to characterize 
those of his class and age, nor did we hear an oath 
from his lips. In both respects, he was a marked con- 
trast to his little brother of six or seven years, who, 
hardly able to speak plainly, lisped out torrents of pro- 
fanity, and was, in everything but size, a well-developed 
bully. The mother, who had brought up the former, 
died in the latter's infancy. Miss McDonnell, a young 
woman of seventeen or eighteen, did not pay us the 
compliment of a call in person, but sent up by a negro 
girl a piece of pine, with a message, rather a command 
than a request, that she desired some crosses, or other 
specimens of carving, — an art at which she evidently 
supposed every Yankee an expert by birth. Regretting 
to disappoint a lady, we sent back word that we were 
not mechanics. 

"There was a little girl of eight or nine years, who, 
when she heard that we belonged to the Northern 



I9O THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

army, came to our door to inquire, with touching 
anxiety, if we knew anything of her brother, — one of 
the missing at the battle of Malvern Hill. He had 
been, it seemed, amonsr those whom Magruder sent 
to that desperate charge upon the batteries manned 
by the First Connecticut Artillery, — repulsed with the 
most terrible slaughter of all that bloody campaign. 
He was seen lying wounded upon the ground ; beyond 
that, all inquiries as to his fate had been in vain. . . . 

" I called McDonnell good-natured, and so he 
showed himself uniformly toward us ; but it was the 
good-nature of a beast, needing only provocation to 
turn it into ferocity. He was telling us of various 
attempts to escape from jail ; among others, one of a 
negro, who, in so doing, broke or otherwise injured 
some of the jail property. 'I gin that nigger,' said he, 
' rather a light noggin'. Cut him up some ; but he 
didn't think as 'twas anyways different from a com- 
mon floggin'. But when I came to wash him down, 
instead of brine, I washed him down with red pepper ; 
poured it right on to the raw, good and strong. Then 
he knew what I meant. Pretty nigh killed the old 
nigger!' This story he related without the slightest 
apparent idea that it was otherwise than creditable to 
him. We had been rather amused with the man 
hitherto ; but this was enough for us. 

"During the next day, we received a call from two 
or three gentlemen, — one of them a graduate of Prince- 
ton ; another, the editor of the Chesterville Standard. 



IN COLUMBIA ONCE MORE. I9I 

They were curious, they said, to see some Northerners 
who were not tired of the war, and wished to learn 
something of the state of public sentiment among us. 
A lively discussion followed, conducted with the same 
freedom as those in which we had engaged before. 
These, however, were different antagonists from our 
country friends, familiar with the North and its peo- 
ple, and well informed upon the questions at issue. 
Bitter almost to desperation in their hostility to Govern- 
ment, men of influence and standing, they were fair 
samples of the class which keeps South Carolina in 
her present position. Our Princeton friend became 
somewhat excited by the plainness with which we laid 
down the program of subjugation, and our confidence 
in its success, though he did not allow himself to be 
led into discourtesy, and finally left the room in ad- 
vance of his friends." 

In the afternoon, Lieutenant Belcher of the Columbia 
Post-Guard arrived with a guard to escort the prisoners 
to their old place of confinement. He bound the 
elbows of both, and then tied them together. Thus 
secured, they journeyed by cars to Columbia, and 
were marched from the depot through the streets of 
that city. 

"Fifteen or twenty minutes' walk brought us to 
familiar places. There was the market-house, at which 
we had so often gazed from our barred windows; the 
street through which we had passed in going for 
water ; then the old jail, upon which we had hoped 



I92 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

never again to look. We entered its door, and our 
journeying were at an end. We were ushered into a 
room which had been used for the confinement of con- 
scripts, adjoining that which we had previously occu- 
pied. Here we were unbound for the first time since 
leaving Chesterville, and left to ourselves. Captain 
Senn soon called upon us. He was in a state of con- 
siderable excitement. Our escape, he said, had nearly 
ruined him ; and he accused us of having abused the 
privileges which had been granted us. We regretted 
having caused him inconvenience ; but the charge we, 
of course, most emphatically repelled. Calming down, 
he expressed much curiosity, as Lieutenant Belcher 
had before, to know how we had contrived to escape. 
He had counted us himself the evening before ; and 
how we could have left the building between that time 
and the next morning he could not imagine. The 
confidence with which he spoke of our presence at the 
evening count, when we were so snugly ensconced in 
the cook-room, was amusing enough ; but we declined 
to enter into any explanations. . . . 

" We entered our new quarters upon December 23, 
having been absent from Columbia a little more than 
eight days. But one of us at a time was permitted to 
pass the threshold ; and then under charge of an armed 
guard, who was responsible for us until we were again 
locked up. It was now that we began to realize the 
disappointment of our failure. Time dragged heavily: 
release seemed more distant than ever before. Yet 



AGAIN WITH OLD COMRADES. 1 93 

there was not that restless torture of impatience which 
had before taken such complete possession of me. 
There was no longer an untried possibility to mock 
me with hope. There was a satisfaction in feeling that 
I had done my utmost ; and I could bend my mind to 
the thought of patient endurance, as it was impossible 
for me to do while it seemed that effort might yet 
accomplish something. . . . On the last day of the 
old year came an order for us to return to our old 
quarters to make room for Lieutenant -Commander 
Williams and Ensign Porter of the navy [a gallant 
young officer afterward killed in the assault on Fort 
Fisher], consigned to close confinement in irons as 
hostages for the treatment of certain Confederate 
prisoners in the hands of the United States authorities. 
We regretted to owe our advantage to their mis- 
fortune; but, fortunately for us, this arrangement of 
rooms was the only one practicable; and, after eight 
days of seclusion, we rejoined our companions, and 
entered upon the year 1864 in circumstances almost 
precisely the same as those of the period preceding 
our escape. 

"The whole affair, though it resulted in failure, was 
one which I by no means regret. So far from con- 
sidering the attempt rash or hopeless, I was, as you 
know, on the point of repeating it a few days since, 
and with excellent prosgects, as I think, of success. 
It broke the monotony of my imprisonment with a 
week of stirring excitement. The exhilaration of 

13 



194 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

freedom and activity amply repaid the accompanying 
hardships; and I have an experience upon which I 
shall always look back with pleasure in its contrast with 
the dreary months which preceded and followed it." 

It was not long after his return to confinement that 
Camp received a large box of home comforts, — cloth- 
ing, books, provisions, cooking utensils, and other 
things, — sent to him immediately after the chaplain's 
release. Besides all that was apparent to the eye, the 
box contained letters, maps, a compass, and other 
things desirable to a prisoner, so concealed as to 
escape the rigid scrutiny of the Confederate officials. 
The arrival of the box — the first from home, and so 
long on its passage that it had been almost despaired 
of — was quite an event to the lonely prisoner. His 
words of grateful joy in acknowledging it indicate 
more clearly by contrast the gloom and sadness of 
ordinary prison life than anything he wrote of his 
trials and discomforts. 

To his home friends he said, " It has come ! of 
course I mean the box, — and what a box! Like 
Blitz's bottle, everything that any one could ask for 
or think of came out of it, and a thousand things be- 
side of which I never should have thought, — yet not 
one superfluous. If I should take up the contents in 
detail, they would furnish me with more really new 
subject-matter than all that I've written about hitherto 
since last July: its arrival is the great event of the 
season. Soberly, you can hardly imagine the impor- 



c 




--N 






A BOX FROM HOME. 195 

tance which such an affair assumes in such a life as 
this we lead here, so utterly monotonous and destitute 
of interest. And that box would have been no trifle 
anywhere to any one away from home and friends. 
I fussed over it and what it contained for two entire 
days, attending to hardly anything else, and only began 
yesterday to settle down again into routine. Indeed, 
for a little while, thoroughly as I enjoyed the surprises 
of each new and the associations of each familiar 
article, I was perversely and ungratefully blue, simply 
from disconnecting myself so entirely in thought from 
prison life, and then finding it forced back upon me." 

To the chaplain he added : 

"Oh! this cramped page, this lifeless ink-talk! You 
know what I would say and what I would do if I were 
with you. God grant that I soon may be ! Then the 
box, so full of evidence of your thoughtful kindness ! — 
who but you would ever have thought of one-half the 
little articles which make no great figure in an invoice, 
but are the most valuable of all, because they bring 
dear ones at the first glance before one's very eyes? 
Who but you could have known precisely what I 
wanted, and anticipated requests already made, but 
which you had never seen ? I wish we could look 
over that box together. I want to talk over each 
article of fifty with you, — and how much have I to say 
besides ! The skill shown in the selection, the abun- 
dance of every desirable thing, and the absence of 
every superfluous one, so as to make the whole a 



196 



THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 



complete outfit for prison housekeeping, astonished 
the rest, and surprised even me who knew your ways, 
and expected to be surprised. 

" If I could only write, — only speak! — but I never 
could do either." 




CHAPTER IX. 



LIBBY PRISON, CAMP PAROLE, HOME. 




FTER more than three months of siege- 
work on Morris Island, the Tenth Regiment 
was ordered to St. Augustine, Florida, to 
enjoy lighter service at that post, for a 
season. The chaplain rejoined it there. 
It was a satisfaction to Camp to know that the regi- 
ment was thus, in his absence, removed from the 
probabilities of immediate battle. This point was one 
on which he was always anxious. 

"The one addition to the trials of imprisonment 
which I am now dreading," he wrote in the opening 
spring, " is to hear that the regiment has gone into 
active service without me. All else I have become in 
a measure inured to, — that will come fresh upon me." 
He could not rest in prison. Time was too precious 
in his estimation. 

"A year or a half-year," he said, "is no inconsider- 
able fraction of any man's life. I would be doing; 
and I am not even preparing. Were my future so 

197 



I98 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

settled that I could study with reference to it, my time 
need not be wholly lost. But I sadly fear that neither 
German nor phonography [both of which he was study- 
ing in prison] will ever be of much practical benefit to 
me. Still, I have never regretted for one instant the 
course I have chosen. I do not think I ever shall; but 
trust to see by and by how all has been for the best." 

Rumors as to exchange negotiations were very tan- 
talizing. The rebel officials declared to the captured 
officers their desire for a release of the prisoners on 
both sides; and the precise reasons for delay were 
never clear to the anxious and interested captives, 
closely as they watched the correspondence of the 
commissioners. 

"Matters look very dark to us just now," wrote 
Camp. "Of course we would die here, to a man, 
rather than have Government yield any point involv- 
ing honor or good faith; but, with no more than our 
present information, it is impossible to understand 
why, without any such sacrifice, arrangements cannot 
be made which would set us at liberty." 

When the matter was in General Butler's hands, 
there was strong hope of an immediate settlement. 

"We have made up our minds to be exchanged," 
Camp wrote at that time; "and, if the affair does fall 
through, you may put strychnine for thirty-one in the 
next box you send." 

But again there was an interruption of the negotia- 
tions. 



ANOTHER PLAN OF ESCAPE. 1 99 

" This suspense is very trying," he then wrote. 
"We feel like the three egg-gatherers of the Orkneys, 
whose story used to be in the school-readers, — our 
rope seems to be parting while we yet swing halfway 
down the precipice ; and it is a desperate chance 
whether the last strand holds long enough to bring us 
to the top." Many a poor sufferer dropped from the 
rope into the dark abyss beneath; and many more 
came to crave death as an alternative of prolonged 
suspense and suffering in captivity. " If capture is not 
to be followed by release," said Camp sadly, "a 
prisoner loses little by death." 

Another escape was contemplated. The plan was 
made by the navy officers; but Adjutant Camp was to 
be one of those profiting by it. A tunnel was dug 
from under the hearth in the navy-room, beneath the 
yard, toward the cellar of a neighboring house, whence 
unobserved egress might with safety have been secured. 
The tunnel was dug at the rate of two or three feet a 
night, the removed earth being spread under the jail 
floor. Steadily the work progressed, and the hearts 
of weary prisoners beat with high hope. But, when 
only work for a single night remained unfinished, the 
tunnel was discovered ; and the whole plan was a 
failure. Then army and navy officers were together 
removed to an upper story of the jail, and their privi- 
leges greatly restricted. Yet other plans of escape 
were proposed, and would doubtless have been at- 
tempted by Camp, had he remained longer a prisoner. 



200 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

The efforts of those having influence for Camp's 
release were at length successful. An order reached 
Columbia about the middle of April for the latter's 
removal to Richmond. He was informed of it by the 
post-adjutant as he came in one morning from the 
yard at the close of the hour of exercise. The order 
did not specify that he was to be exchanged ; but he 
had reason to hope that that was its meaning, and his 
joyful surprise was for a time quite bewildering. He 
was sent forward at once under guard, by the way of 
Charlotte, Weldon, and Petersburg, enjoying again the 
long-forbidden sight of open country, and having 
ample opportunities of observing rebels in rebeldom, 
during the frequent stops by the way, and on the 
crowded cars. 

At Petersburg, connection was missed with the Rich- 
mond train ; and, lest he should lose one trip of the 
flag-of-truce boat by the delay, he proposed to hire a 
carriage, and hurry forward over the turnpike the 
twenty-three remaining miles. The guard was well 
pleased with this arrangement, as it would expedite 
his return to Columbia; but, on going to a livery- 
stable, they found three hundred dollars to be the cost 
of a hack for the distance. Even accustomed as he 
was to Southern prices, that charge rather took Camp's 
breath away, as he said afterward. Several hours of 
unsuccessful hunting for humbler conveyances satis- 
fied him that, if he should at length succeed in finding 
any team, its price would be quite beyond his means. 



IN LIBBY PRISON. 201 

So he went with his guard to the Bolingbroke House 
to wait for the next regular train. His experience, after 
reaching Richmond, he thus narrated to the chaplain : 

" I was despatched, under guard, to the Libby, 
marching at the head of a squad of rebs destined to 
Castle Thunder. My baggage, which had undergone 
a merely nominal examination by Lieutenant Belcher, at 
Columbia, received about the same here; the sergeant 
observing inquiringly, that he 'supposed I had nothing 
contraband there ? ' Somewhat doubtful as to the 
character of my hidden journal, I replied, that I didn't 
think he'd find anything of that kind there, — and he 
didn't. 

"A ladder, substituted some months since for the 
stairs, was the means of communication with the upper 
regions. Ascending this, I was at once surrounded by 
inquirers as to the character of the last haul, and con- 
ducted at once to the room where most of the Con- 
necticut officers were quartered. You can imagine 
better than I can tell how strange the scene appeared 
to me. You remember the crowded rooms, the bustle, 
the confusion, the contrast, in every point, with our old 
Columbia place of confinement. 

"After I had been introduced, and shown the curiosi- 
ties, — bone-work, sketch for lithograph, etc., I was 
considered naturalized, and fit to take care of myself. 
. . . Our mess took two meals a day, as in Columbia, 
using none of the prison rations, except occasionally 
a little meal, living exclusively upon the contents of 



202 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

boxes from home. Before I left, their supplies were 
wellnigh exhausted; and we were eking them out 
with the prison corn-bread, regardless of the mice, 
baked whole, in it. [Camp actually found a baked 
mouse in a loaf of corn -bread served to him at the 
Libby.] After the first few days, we took turns in 
cooking. I won't ask odds from any Biddy in the 
country on a loaf of good wheat bread, — which is, I 
believe, the test above all others of an accomplished 
cook, reasoning a fortiori. 

" Boxes were issued a day or two after my arrival. 
I attended in the lower room, thinking it just possible 
that mine might be among them. A blanket was 
spread on the floor, and the contents of a box pitched 
into it (the box being then carried away), — sugar, 
shirts, apple-sauce, boots, coffee, blacking, peaches, and 
stationery, — all in one indiscriminate pile. Every- 
thing had been thoroughly overhauled, and much 
stolen. A bag would be torn in preference to unty- 
insf the string which secured its mouth. Cans of milk 
or preserved fruit were punched to ascertain the con- 
tents. ... I read a little, played chess a little, sketched 
a little, cooked a little, paced the lower room a good 
deal. . . . 

"I was warned, upon my arrival, against standing at 
the windows. Any one who showed his head to the 
guard below was liable to be shot. But the exposure 
was a common thing. Now and then some particu- 
larly savage guard would evidently be watching his 



LAST NIGHT IN PRISON. 203 

chance for a shot at a Yankee, — and all would be 
careful, — tantalizing him now and then with a capital 
opportunity if he had only been ready for it, but with 
a prudent regard to the length of time which it would 
take him to come to an aim. 

"There was a story that we were all to be sent to 
Georgia; and it was doubtful whether that was not 
preferable to the starvation which would certainly be 
the result of our presence at Richmond during a siege, 
however short, and the possibility (much greater than 
some thought it) of being blown up, rather than allowed 
to fall into Union hands. Altogether we were grow- 
ing daily less hopeful, and, about the end of April, 
had reached a decided shade of blue. When, on 
Friday the 29th, the old story of 'boat up ' came, with 
better authority, apparently, than usual, I only thought 
that, if it were true, it was in so far encouraging that 
we might receive some news. So I went quietly to 
bed, little thinking that it was my last night in prison. 

" I was roused from a doze the next morning, by 
hearing a list of names which was being read, in a dis- 
tinct voice, in the center of the room. All the possi- 
bilities flashed upon me at once. I sat up in bed, wide 
awake. ' What names are those ? ' I inquired. ' Names 
of those who are going in this boat/ replied Lieutenant 
Carpenter. So there were officers going. My breath 
came a little thick, and how I listened ! I had missed 
one or two at the beginning, but no matter; he was 
still reading names of field -officers. Then came cap- 



204 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

tains, — a dozen or so; lieutenants; then an adjutant; 
and lieutenants again. If there had been more than 
one adjutant, wouldn't they have been put together? 
'Lieutenant H. W. Hamp!' A thrill ran through me. 
Did he mean me? It must be; but it wouldn't do 
for me to allow myself to think so. I wouldn't think 
so until I had asked him. 

"As he read the last name and turned away, I 
jumped to my feet, followed him, and laid my hand 
upon his shoulder. It was Dick Turner, the inspector. 
He turned, somewhat surprised, apparently, at my ap- 
pearance, as well he might be : my toilet had not been 
elaborate, and was deficient in a few minor articles, 
such as pants and stockings. ' There was one name,' 
said I, 'which I am not sure I understood, — Hamp, I 
think you called it.' He opened the list: my eye ran 
down the page in the tenth part of a second. There 
it was, — a little too much nourish, — 'Camp, lieutenant 
and adjutant,' but no room for any doubt. I took a 
good breath. By and by he found it: it was close to 
the bottom of the page. ' Camp is my name,' said I : 
'is not that what it is meant for ? ' 'That your name? 
Yes : Camp, — that's right.' I walked back with a 
wonderful feeling pervading me; not so much an in- 
telligent and definite sense of joy as a consciousness 
of being half-intoxicated, with a necessity of putting 
myself under restraint lest I should do something 
absurd. It was the inability of my mind instantly to 
take in and realize the significance of what had passed. 



A START FOR HOME. 205 

" I had been told that the names of those who went 
before had been read an hour or two before they 
started ; had no doubt that there was plenty of time 
before me, and leisurely slipping on pants, stockings, 
and shoes, started for the lower east room to wash 
before roll-call. Passing the stairs, I noticed a crowd 
around them, and in a moment more heard some one 
say, ' They've all gone down now ! ' If I were to be 
left! You can imagine that grass didn't grow under 
my feet before I stood in the office, overcoat on, and 
valise in hand, — the latter fortunately already packed. 
I was not the last, after all, and should have had time 
to make my toilet, though without many minutes to 
spare. 

"Those who preceded me, and they were nearly all, 
were drawn up in line in the lower hall. While we 
stood there, another officer came down. The name 
of Stewart was on the list, and had been answered to : 
but this name was Stewart as well ; was not he the 
man ? How number one looked at him ! But there 
had been no mistake this time ; and number two, poor 
fellow! sadly went back up the stairs to his prison. It 
was enough to make one shudder, like seeing a drown- 
ing man clutch at the plank which floats your head 
above water, miss it, and sink. 

"The parole was read to us, not to serve until 
'exchanged under the cartel of July, 1862 ; ' and we 
signed it in duplicate. We passed through a door 
leading to the outer hall, one by one; each answering 



206 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

affirmatively the question, ' You declare, upon your 
honor as an officer and a gentleman, that you have no 
letter or paper from any person ? ' and there was no 
examination. Forming by fours in the street, while 
the guard was drawn up around us, we waited for 
some time, while those within shouted messages, con- 
gratulations, and farewells to us. Every window in 
the building was crowded with faces pressed close to 
the iron bars. It was a sad sight : the prison looks 
far more terrible and prison-like without than within, 
where, as the Richmond Examiner said one day, it 
resembles the interior of a grocery-store more than 
anything else. 

" Marching to the landing, we went on board the 
Allison, and, after some delay, started down the river 
at half-past eight. Three hundred sick men were with 
us ; and they were an awful sight, in their disease and 
filth. Stretched upon deck, without blanket or over- 
coat, some looked as if they would die where they lay. 
There were piles of mattresses lying close by; but 
these were not to be used: they were for the rebel 
sick upon the return trip. I saw them spread before 
I left the boat at City Point. One poor fellow was 
deranged, and had to be caught two or three times as 
he wandered about the boat, and returned to those 
who were caring for him. 

"It was half-past twelve when we reached City 
Point, and saw for the first time in many months the 
Stars and Stripes, as they floated above the New York, 



UNDER THE OLD FLAG. 20"J 

which lay there at anchor. I used to think that 
enthusiasm for the flag was principally a manufactured 
article, and indulged a philosophical contempt for 
those who allowed a material object to occupy the 
place in their minds which should be filled by the 
abstract principle. But I shall have charity hence- 
forth for all Fourth of July orators, knowing myself 
better than I did ; and honest feeling, even if it flies 
the spread eagle a little too high for my taste, shall 
have cheers instead of sneers from me. It was some 
two hours before the transfer for prisoners was accom- 
plished, and I stepped upon our own boat, free. You 
know how I felt ! " 

At the very time when Camp was hunting after a 
conveyance from Petersburg to Richmond, his regi- 
ment was embarking from St. Augustine for Virginia. 
While he was in the Libby, it was at the Gloucester 
Point rendezvous of the newly formed Army of the 
James. When he reached Fortress Monroe by the 
flag-of-truce boat from City Point, on the evening" of 
May I, he was met by Chaplain Trumbull, who was 
waiting his arrival. The joy of that meeting, oh, who 
can tell! 

After the interview, which was but brief, as the boat 
was on its way to Annapolis, Camp wrote : 

"You have just left me, and I am still in a maze, — 
whether in the body or out of the body I can hardly 
tell. So joyful and so astonishing a surprise ! For 
though I had thought of your being in Virginia, as a 



208 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

possibility, I supposed you were still in St. Augustine; 
and nothing under heaven could have seemed farther 
beyond the range of hope than to actually see you 
and talk with you to-night. Oh, if we could have a 
little longer time ! . . . Thank God that he has 
granted us so much ! What would I have given, three 
days ago, for the assurance of it ! and the spirit of 
complaint, which, even now, I can hardly repress, is 
too ungrateful. I am a thousand times happier than 
I deserve to be, — almost as happy as I could be. My 
cup is full : I won't ask to have it overflow." 

Two days later, writing from Annapolis, where he 
was delayed nearly a week, he said : 

"I have enjoyed your letter greatly: it is yourself a 
little way off, it is true, but seen through clear atmos- 
phere, and not the smoked glass of a prison-page toned 
down to pass rebel inspection. But, oh, how I used 
to prize the dimmer pictures in the midst of my dark- 
ness ! 

" I am just beginning to realize that I am free. Until 
within a few hours, the jesting cry of ' Boat up, three 
hundred officers on board,' would send the same thrill 
through me which it did at the Libby. I have still a 
great respect for enlisted men on duty, and half expect 
some of them to take me in charge as I pass through 
the streets. My hand doesn't rise to a salute spon- 
taneously : it requires a distinct volition. Did you 
jump at once back to your old position ? " 

Camp's fear then was that his regiment would be 



LONGING FOR SERVICE. 200, 

engaged before he could rejoin it. He was yet only 
paroled, and he longed for a full exchange. "There 
is a captain here," he writes, " who has been paroled, 
and for whom General Butler is going to arrange with 
Judge Ould a special exchange. I wish he'd put my 
name on the same paper. Uncle Sam may take back 
my leave of absence, and I'll throw in the half-pay, 
and all he owes me too." 

The Tenth Regiment left Gloucester Point, May 4, 
ascended the James with General Butler's expedition, 
and landed, on the morning of the 6th, at Bermuda 
Hundred. On the 7th, it participated in the first 
attack on the Petersburg and Richmond Railroad. 
The news of this fight was received by Camp just after 
he reached his home from which he had been so long 
and sadly separated. Even in the fulness of his joy at 
that reunion, he could not repress the desire to be 
with his regiment at the front ; and his affectionate 
anxiety for his friend manifested itself freely in his 
letters. 

"I know just how you feel about exposure in 
battle," he wrote. " If I could be there, we would go 
to the front together ; but you have no right to go 
without me. I can't have you do it. You know I 
wouldn't ask you to stay back one inch behind the 
post of duty; but, for my sake, don't go one inch be- 
yond it. Oh, it is hard to think of you in danger 
which I must not share!" 



■4 




CHAPTER X. 




CAMPAIGNING WITH THE ARMY OF THE JAMES. 

9^" ATE in the evening of May 1 1, Camp heard 



indirectly that the prisoners paroled prior 
to April 30 were declared exchanged. At 
once he telegraphed to a friend in Wash- 
ington to ascertain the truth for him. 
Learning, early the next morning, the report to be 
correct, he telegraphed to Annapolis for permission to 
go directly to his regiment, but was informed that he 
must report again at Camp Parole. But five days of 
his leave had yet expired. He had been eighteen 
months away from home, nearly ten of these in prison. 
Not many, under such circumstances, would have 
been unwilling to avail themselves of the remaining 
fifteen days with a loved household, before returning 
to hard service in the field ; but with Henry Camp the 
cause of country was the cause of God, and for that 
cause he was willing to leave father and mother, and 
brother and sisters, and to lose his life for its sake. 
Not stopping even for the completion of the cloth- 



THE FRIENDS REUNITED. 211 

ing he had ordered made, nor yet for the packing of a 
valise; wearing his clumsy prison-shoes of rebel make; 
and taking only a haversack for his personal baggage, 
trusting to share blankets and whatever else was re- 
quired with his friend at the front, — he was ready for 
a start in an hour and a half after the receipt of his 
telegram, and hurried off, on Wednesday night, for 
New York and Annapolis ; thence to Fortress Monroe 
and Bermuda Hundred, reaching the latter point on 
Sunday evening, May 15. 

His regiment had left camp on the 12th, with Gen- 
eral Butler's advance to the rear of Drewry's Bluff, 
and, after sharp fighting on the 13th and 14th, was 
now bivouacked near the Richmond and Petersburg 
Railroad. The chaplain had left the regiment that 
afternoon to visit the hospital, and to write from camp 
to friends of the dead and wounded. The joy of his 
unexpected meeting with his friend, on reaching the 
camp, can only be imagined. The reunited friends 
sat together that night until four in the morning, then 
slept a single hour, and at five were up, making ready 
to rejoin their regiment. 

It was the foggy morning of May 16. The sharp 
firing of the battle at the extreme right — the position 
of the Eighteenth Corps — was heard by the friends as 
they rode out of camp; but they did not suppose it 
boded trouble to the Tenth Corps at the far left. As 
they approached the Richmond turnpike, they saw 
evidences of disaster. Full supply-trains had been 



212 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

turned back ; shirks and stragglers were hurrying to 
the rear; rumors of a defeat came down, at first vague, 
afterward more definite and positive. The friends met 
an officer of General Heckman's brigade, an old ac- 
quaintance, and from him learned of the morning 
attack, and the severe losses in the engagement on the 
right. General Heckman and Captain Belger were 
prisoners ; Colonel Lee was erroneously reported 
killed, and Lieutenant-Colonel Chambers was mortally 
wounded : — all these were old North Carolina fellow- 
officers. Affairs wore indeed a gloomy aspect. The 
turnpike was thronged with hastily retiring troops, 
wounded men, rebel prisoners, ammunition wagons, 
and ambulances ; and confusion, if not disorder, pre- 
vailed. Many of those first met were evidently much 
alarmed, and gave an exaggerated report of the dis- 
aster. 

Of the Tenth Corps it was not easy to obtain intel- 
ligence. Communication with it had been temporarily 
severed, and the story was in many mouths that it had 
been cut off and captured, — albeit the friends knew it 
too well to be disturbed by that report. That it had 
changed position was confidently asserted, but how to 
find it was a troublesome question. An officer of rank 
stated that it had moved down the railroad, and was 
already some distance in the rear. That assertion was 
contradicted by another officer, five minutes later. 
Camp's anxiety to reach his regiment grew greater 
and more intense continually. In prison, he had more 



BATTLE OF DREWRYS BLUFF. 213 

than once expressed the wish that he could rejoin it 
in the hour of battle; and now it seemed that he 
might hope to do so. Hither and thither the friends 
hurried, in endeavors to learn the whereabouts of their 
corps. Any one who has looked for a missing com- 
mand in the time of an engagement, and no one else, 
will understand how next to impossible it then is to 
secure trustworthy information of its locality, even 
from those who would be supposed to know. Again 
and again the friends were warned of the folly of an 
attempt to cross to the extreme left, which the Tenth 
Corps had occupied, and told that their capture would 
be inevitable, if, indeed, they escaped with their lives. 
The prospect of so speedy a return to the Libby was 
certainly not enticing to the just released prisoner; 
but he had no thought of slackening, on that account, 
his efforts to reach his regiment. 

Moving up the road, Camp met, coming down, Cap- 
tain Charles T. Stanton, of the Twenty-first Connecti- 
cut, of Heckman's brigade, who pulled an oar with 
him at the Worcester regatta. The captain's bleeding 
right arm was in an extemporized sling, he having 
been wounded in the morning's fight. As he had 
heard that Camp died in a rebel prison, he was as 
surprised as pleased to find him alive and well. To 
make sure of the Tenth Corps, the friends sought 
Major-General Butler, and, finding him with some diffi- 
culty, ascertained that General Gillmore's command 
was still in position at the left. They then made haste 



214 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

in that direction, and, as they approached it, met 
wounded men of their regiment coming to the rear. 
The Tenth had been hotly engaged, and lost heavily. 
It was still at the far front. They had farther difficulty 
in finding its precise location. Sharp musketry firing 
was heard just in advance. Other wounded men com- 
ing back said it was again engaged. There was intense 
earnestness in Camp's look as he turned to his friend, 
and said, in tones of strongest determination, "We 
must reach the regiment at once, in one way or 
another." 

Not many seconds later, as the two urged on their 
horses, the head of the regiment came in view over 
the crest of a hill the riders were ascending. That 
Adjutant Camp was recognized, a wild shout of joy 
gave proof. As he drew his horse to the roadside, 
the regiment filed past, and each company successively 
greeted him with hearty hurrahs, while he sat, with 
cap in hand, in all his manly beauty, receiving their 
gratulations with feelings of grateful pride that atoned 
for weary months of waiting and suffering in prison. 
Not alone Colonel Otis gave him greeting, but Colonel 
(now General) Plaisted, the brigade commander, 
hastened forward to bid him welcome; and even 
General Terry, with all the responsibility of the battle 
on him in that imminent hour for his division, swung 
his hat in sympathy with the cheering regiment, and 
spurred forward his horse to take the returned adju- 
tant by the hand, and express his cordial satisfaction 



AGAIN UNDER FIRE. 215 

at seeing him once more in his old position. It was 
but a few minutes before Camp was conveying orders 
along the line as naturally as though he had never 
been absent, while the bullets of the enemy whistled 
past his ears. 

"During most of the time after this," he wrote, "we 
acted as rear-guard — a very unpleasant duty upon a 
retreat. To make a stand merely for the purpose of 
delay; to take positions which we knew we could not 
hold; to keep the pursuing enemy in check while 
others made good their escape — it was harassing and 
dispiriting work. At one place, forming line with 
several other regiments, we remained several hours 
without being attacked, and had almost concluded 
that we were to march in unmolested, when the order 
came for us to move forward, and hold the crest of a 
hill some distance farther up the road. A section of 
a battery (two pieces) occupied a position just opposite 
our right flank. We had stood here some time with 
no sign of an enemy, when suddenly the fierce rush of 
a shell tore the air close by us. A better shot could 
hardly have been made in a hundred trials; but, 
strangely enough, no one seemed to be hurt. The 
artillerists scattered as if the explosion had blown 
them away bodily, and it seemed for a minute or two 
as if the guns were to be abandoned. Their com- 
mander rallied his men, however; but even then the 
height of his ambition seemed to be to get his guns 
safely away, and in this he succeeded. I don't believe 



2l6 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the same movement was ever executed in less time 
than it took those fellows to have their section in 
readiness, and then tear down the road at the full 
speed of their horses. It was absolutely ridiculous, 
and our men stood by enjoying and commenting in a 
style that the battery commander would hardly have 
considered complimentary. 

" From the same quarter as before, shell followed 
shell in rapid succession — some passing far beyond 
our line, and striking in the track of the flying artillery; 
some tearing up the ground before us, filling the air 
with earth and dust; some exploding just above our 
heads, and sending the ragged iron fragments among 
us in every direction. Only one man, however, was 
hit, and his wound was a mere contusion. It is ner- 
vous work, this standing target for shells. You can 
tell a second or two in advance about where the missile 
is coming, whether high or low, whether upon the 
right or left, and if it seems to be just about in a line 
with your own position, and about four feet, say, from 
the ground, there's a short time during which you are 
much interested as to the correctness or incorrectness 
of your estimate." 

That night found all of General Butler's troops who 
remained of the expedition safely within the Bermuda 
Hundred line of defenses. 

The campaign which thus commenced to Camp 
ended to him only with his death. He hardly knew 
what it was to rest again while he lived. Battles and 



A SUMMER OF BATTLES. 21 J 

skirmishes alternated with tours of exciting and peril- 
ous picket-duty, in the face of a vigilant and deter- 
mined enemy. Being under fire was the soldiers' nor- 
mal condition in the Army of the James during the 
summer of 1864. 

When the Tenth Corps was reorganized at Glouces- 
ter Point, the Tenth Connecticut was brigaded with 
the Eleventh Maine, the One-Hundredth New York, 
and the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, under Colonel 
H. M. Plaisted of the Eleventh Maine. The brigade 
was the third of General Terry's division. The Twenty- 
fourth Massachusetts and the Tenth had been friends 
in all their campaigning. The One-Hundredth New 
York had been brigaded with both in South Carolina. 
The Eleventh Maine, although more recently with 
them, soon became a general favorite, and that and 
the Tenth were almost as one regiment. 

Camp's letters to his home from Bermuda Hundred 
were full and entertaining, as ever. His faithfulness 
as a correspondent was remarkable. From the day 
he entered service until he died, his home letters aver- 
aged above three full pages a day. These letters were 
written, without prefix or signature, to the family as a 
whole, and formed a complete record of his entire 
army and prison life. Of course, much of his writing 
was by the wayside, or on the battle-field. Seldom 
did many hours pass without his writing something 
to the loved ones. The extracts freely made from 
these familiar letters, written exclusively for family 



2l8 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

eyes, in this memorial, show the style and substance 
of his correspondence. 

"I'm half afraid," he wrote, soon after his return 
from Drewry's Bluff, "that my anxiety to join my 
regiment may have made me seem not to appreciate 
home; but you know me better than that, don't you ? 
I can hardly recall five so bright days in my life as 
those five with you. I trust there will be many more 
like them. It would have been delightful to be longer 
with you ; but none of us would have had it so at the 
cost of absence from the place of duty." 

Tuesday evening, May 17, Camp addressed his 
comrades at a prayer-meeting, by the blazing firelight, 
in the open air ; and again his voice was heard by 
them in earnest prayer. A few hours later, he was 
hurrying with them toward the Petersburg pike for a 
night attack on the moving trains of General Beaure- 
gard. Those who were near him, as the regiment lay 
in support of the Eleventh Maine, will not forget how, 
when an unexpected shower of bullets was poured in 
among the reclining men, causing a moment's flutter, 
as if some would seek shelter, the tones of his clear, 
firm, inspiring voice, saying, "Steady, men! steady!" 
reassured all who were within its sound. 

" It is a strange life, this," he wrote a few days later, 
" that we lead here, — widely different from anything 
that I have seen before in army service. The constant 
liability to attack, and frequent skirmishes on the 
picket-line, close in front of us, make us indifferent to 



ARTILLERY FIRE BY NIGHT. 2ip 

what, in other times, and at other places, would have 
caused us the intensest excitement. Sharp fighting is 
going on while I write, just in the edge of the woods 
beyond the works, — so near that every shot fired 
comes plainly to the ear ; and the cheers of our men 
ring loudly through the air, — so different from the 
senseless falsetto roar with which the rebels charge, that 
we do not doubt that our forces are attacking the rifle- 
pits which they lost a few hours ago." 

Describing a night attack on the lines, May 21, 
when, as on many another occasion, the regiment was 
hurried from its camp to the works, he said: "The 
scene, as viewed from the intrenchments which our 
regiment immediately manned, was a very striking 
one. Artillery fire by night is a beautiful sight. The 
red burst of flame from the muzzle of each gun lights 
up the whole landscape like a flash of summer light- 
ning; the shell describes its long curve through the 
air, leaving behind a trail of sparks from the burning 
fuse ; and its explosion brings again into momentary 
sight, sometimes the tree-tops only, above which it 
bursts, or sometimes, if well aimed, the long, low line 
of rebel earthworks, near the forest's edge. Then 
the enemy's reply, — the distant flash, dim in com- 
parison with the startling glare of the shell which 
explodes, it may be, close at hand, shooting long 
tongues of fire in all directions from a huge nucleus 
of intensest brilliance. Add to this the almost inces- 
sant thunder of the rapid discharges, the whole in its 



220 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

contrast with the previous darkness and silence of a 
quiet moonless night, and you have that which, once 
seeing and hearing, you will not soon forget." 

Two nights later, the Tenth was on picket when an 
order came from division headquarters for scouts to 
be sent out to ascertain if the enemy was still in full 
force in front. Camp passed along the line conveying 
these orders from Colonel Otis to his officers. Hardly 
had he returned to the reserve when sharp firing was 
heard at the left. Hurrying thither with the colonel, 
they found it was before the adjoining brigade. Again 
they returned to their starting-point. 

"Before Henry and I had been half an hour at the 
reserve," wrote Camp, "after our second return from 
the advance, came the alarm of an attack, just as it 
always comes, — first the crack of one or two rifles, 
startling one from his rest, and sounding in the still- 
ness as if it were within twenty feet of him. This 
comes from the advanced posts, where the men fire 
the instant they discover an enemy, and then fall back ; 
then the fire of the whole line, — not a solid volley, 
such as one hears at a drill, but an irregular roll, un- 
like anything else when heard close at hand, but 
sounding at a distance so much like the clattering 
rumble of heavy wagons over a rough road, that even 
a practiced ear is sometimes deceived. This time, the 
sounds were close at hand, and with them came the 
whistle of bullets. 

"We who slept at the reserve were quickly upon 



A PICKET SKIRMISH. 221 

our feet, and out of our shelter. One company of our 
regiment was stationed a short distance up the road ; 
to this the colonel sent me with orders to hold itself 
in readiness for an immediate move to any part of the 
line which might be hardest pressed. Henry and I 
walked toward it through a sharp fire; the message 
was delivered, and we returned with a most uncom- 
fortable apprehension all the way that we might be 
hit in the back. The announcement wouldn't read 
well in the newspapers, however necessary the move- 
ment of which it was the result. 

" Reaching the reserve, there was nothing more to 
be done just at present but wait. Colonel Otis must 
not move forward to the line lest messages sent to him 
at his post should fail to reach him, and there we re- 
mained. It was a far more dangerous position than 
at the front, being near the central point of a convex 
line of defenses; so that we had a cross-fire upon us 
within short range of the rebel works, and we were 
standing out in full exposure while all others were 
sheltered behind defenses of one sort or another. I 
don't know why it is, but this sort of danger affects 
me comparatively little. Shot and shell, as long as I 
know that I am not more than others their special 
mark, I can listen to with a good deal of confidence 
that none of them mean me; but the knowledge that 
a sharpshooter has his eye upon me ; is calculating 
the correctness of his aim, since that last bullet missed 
its mark ; thinking whether he had better take me in 



222 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the head scientifically, or make a sure thing of it by 
aiming a little lower down, — this, I must confess, gives 
me a curious sensation in the pit of the stomach, and 
makes me cast, now and then, a wistful glance to the 
biggest tree-trunk near by. Of course, I don't go 
there; but I have a good deal of sympathy with the 
fellow that does, after all. 

"At this time, however, we had no such apprehen- 
sions. We had heard, incredulously hitherto, of an 
explosive bullet, said to be fired by the enemy : now, 
close by us, nearer than the crack of our own rifles, 
sounded, every now and then, a sharp little explosion, 
like that of a pistol. We were inclined, after listening 
to a few of them, to believe the stories we had heard, 
though I do not know that any of the fragments have 
been picked up. As Colonel Otis, Henry, and I stood 
together, the bullets flew thick and fast; and we had 
more than one narrow escape. . . . 

"The advance of the rebels was repulsed, Colonel 
Otis bringing our reserve company into action; and, 
by half-past two or three in the morning, all was again 
quiet." 

Until about the first of June, there was little inter- 
mission to this skirmishing and artillery fighting. Of 
one of his earlier visits to a large redoubt at the left 
of his regimental front, commanded by Major Trum- 
bull [a younger brother of Chaplain Trumbull] of the 
First Connecticut Artillery, he wrote: 

" Major Trumbull invited us this morning to the top 



BERMUDA HUNDRED WORKS. 223 

of the parapet, to examine the rebel works with greater 
ease. The interest of the view was increased by his 
explanations. 'These works in the plain just beneath 
are our own rifle-pits, those yonder in the woods are 
theirs. Their sharpshooters post themselves in the 
undergrowth much nearer. I don't know how it will 
be to-day, but yesterday no officer could show him- 
self here, without finding himself a mark immediately. 
You'll see, if we get a shot, it will come from that 
thicket on the left. Between where we stand and that 
traverse, a few rods distant, eight men have been picked 
off since Sunday.' But the discourteous rebels didn't 
seem to think us worth their notice ; and we came 
down without a salute." 

" I think we have been more under fire within the 
past ten or twelve days, than in all our previous army 
life," Camp wrote about the same time with the above, 
— " mercifully protected, both of us, as always hitherto, 
and as I trust it may be in the future, until we reach 
home together." 

It would seem as though such service was suf- 
ficiently active to satisfy Camp's utmost craving for 
usefulness ; but when Turner's division of the Tenth 
Corps accompanied the Eighteenth Corps across the 
James to re-enforce the Army of the Potomac, and the 
Bermuda Hundred front was for a few days a little 
quieter, he was again disturbed lest he should be left 
where there was not the greatest need of men ; and, 
while listening to the thunder of the Cold Harbor 



224 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

battles, he wrote in a regretful mood which he never 
indulged save when denied the privilege of doing more 
for the cause he loved : — 

"Again through the day boomed the heavy guns 
far to the northward ; and now, assured that the fight 
had really reached the gates of Richmond, we listened 
anxiously, and waited impatiently as we still wait for 
news. This morning brings the same roar to our ears, 
but louder and clearer than before, — a hopeful indica- 
tion we think it. As I stop writing to listen, it seems 
to have ceased. Oh that we were where it has come 
from, insteads of dozing here, hemmed in by a handful 
whom Beauregard probably didn't think worth taking 
with him to meet Grant ! 

"You can't be having a more humdrum life than we 
have had for two or three days now. Yet, when I stop 
to think, we should have called just such days as these 
a time of the intensest excitement at New-Berne, or 
St. Helena, or in any other place I have ever been. 
We have been shelled in our intrenchments, we have 
picketed within pistol-shot of the enemy, we have had 
word sent that they were massing opposite the right, 
as if for an attack in force. We have had everything 
except personal participation in a fight, and the narrow 
escape which was beginning to be a part of the regular 
program of each day." 

Picket service was a very different matter at Ber- 
muda Hundred from what it had been at any place 
before occupied by the Tenth. At New-Berne and St. 



LIFE ON THE PICKET- LINE. 225 

Augustine the enemy might make his appearance at 
any time, at Seabrook Island he was in sight of the 
outposts, at James and Morris Islands he was within 
gunshot ; but at Bermuda Hundred he was almost 
within arm's length, — within speaking distance along 
the entire front. As a portion of the line was in the 
pine woods, it was not an easy thing to pass from post 
to post in the darkness ; and a few paces in the wrong 
direction after leaving the tree of one vedette in search 
of the next would take one into the lines of the enemy. 
As much of the posting was done after nightfall, the 
duties of the adjutant in conveying orders from the 
colonel, and in aiding to establish the line, were respon- 
sible and trying. More than one officer or soldier of 
this side or the other strayed from his path, and was 
taken prisoner on that perplexing front; and Camp 
would have shrunk far more from the thought of cap- 
tivity than of death. 

Sociability between opposing pickets was a fresh 
feature of outpost life, resulting from the proximity of 
the two lines. Describing a walk from left to right 
along the picket-front, before batteries No. 3 and No. 4, 
Camp wrote: 

" Crossing the open ground, we entered the woods 
on the opposite side of the plain. Here our lines and 
theirs converged, so that the posts were as near to one 
another as across the front of our house yard. We 
stopped and watched those opposite us for a few min- 
utes; and they seemed equally interested in us. Very 

15 



226 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

natural they looked in their gray jackets and pants, 
just like the fellows who were keeping guard over me 
a few days ago. We scrutinized their faces to see if 
we couldn't recognize some of our old acquaintances 
among them ; but these were North Carolina men, — 
the same, some of them, who had fought us at Roanoke, 
New-Berne, and Kinston : so they said. They invited 
us to come over and visit them : they had tobacco, 
which they wanted to barter for what we could give ; 
and very likely we might have accepted the invitation 
and returned in safety : but we didn't put the question 
to test. . . . 

"The opposing pickets have been on excellent terms 
for the past few days. On Monday, just before the 
artillery fire commenced, the rebels at the outposts 
warned our men, 'Get into cover, boys: our guns are 
going to open right away ! ' And yesterday they 
called out to the men of the Massachusetts Twenty- 
fourth, that they had an ugly-tempered fellow on as 
officer of the day, and would very likely be ordered to 
fire at any Yankee whom they could see. 'But the 
first time,' said they, 'we'll fire high: after that you 
must look out.' Good-natured fellows, weren't they ? 
not such as you would care to kill on general princi- 
ples, — only for special reasons." 

The night of June 15 found the Tenth on picket at 
the extreme right, next the James. Soon after mid- 
night, word came to the reserve that the enemy had 
planted cannon so as to sweep the main road across 



AN EXCITING NIGHT. 227 

which ran the picket-line; that he was massing troops 
as for an attack at the right; and that he had advanced 
his vedettes as if to make room for an assaulting 
column. Major Greeley, being in command of the 
regiment at the time, went immediately to the front, 
and Camp accompanied him. That there was unusual 
activity on the part of the enemy there could not be a 
doubt. The rumble of moving artillery and army 
wagons was distinctly heard; and the clatter of swift- 
riding horses, with the voices of officers giving orders, 
close at hand, mingled with the rattle of trains over the 
Petersburg track from far beyond. But whether all 
these movements indicated an evacuation, or the arrival 
of re-enforcements for an attack, was an undecided but 
interesting question to the waiting listeners at the ad- 
vanced rifle-pits. It was impossible to decide from 
the sound in which direction the teams were moving. 
Adjutant Camp was sent to make report of what 
was heard to Colonel Voris of the Sixty-seventh Ohio, 
division officer of the day. The latter had received 
similar reports from all along the line. Orders were 
given for the entire force to stand to arms until day- 
light. Just in the gray of the morning came orders 
for the vedette line to be re-enforced, and every other 
man of it pushed forward to feel the enemy's front. 
The thin skirmish-line of the Tenth, thus formed, 
moved out; Major Greeley, Adjutant Camp, and his 
friend following it closely. It was an exciting ad- 
vance. The rumble of wheels was still heard, and the 



228 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

voices of the enemy seemed not far in front. There 
was every reason to expect momentarily a checking 
fire. They passed the posts where the rebel vedettes 
had stood at sundown. They approached, unopposed, 
the rifle-pits over which the heads of the Johnnies had 
peered at them the day before. The sounds which 
were first heard had not yet died away; but the enemy 
made no attempt to stay the skirmishers' progress. 
They saw before them the line of strong works which 
had so long kept General Butler's forces cooped up in 
the peninsula ; but no signs of life appeared, although 
voices and the rumbling wheels were distinct as at 
the start. The abattis was torn aside, the ditch was 
leaped, the steep sides of the parapet were clam- 
bered ; and, with no little satisfaction, they stood on 
the crown of the formidable intrenchments, and, look- 
ing right and left, saw that they were in unquestioned 
possession. 

As yet only fifty or sixty men — extended along a 
front of half a mile — had moved out from the Tenth ; 
and no force was in supporting distance. The enemy 
had not all deserted the Howlett Redoubt; and the 
handful of skirmishers nearest to it made haste along 
the parapet to cut off the retreat of those still there, 
and succeeded in capturing three commissioned officers 
and nearly thirty enlisted men. 

The few who were participants in that morning 
advance and skirmish on the bank of the James will 
not soon forget the excitement of its progress, or the 



A NEW ADVANCE. 229 

satisfaction of its success. The regiment was ordered 
up, with other troops at the left ; and soon the evacu- 
ated works were fully occupied by a competent force, 
while General Terry pushed out to cut once more 
the Petersburg and Richmond Railroad. The Tenth, 
having cleared out the rifle-pits on its new front, and 
taken a few more prisoners, held a position along the 
works near the river, where it had made its first cap- 
tures in the morning. 

" Upon the river-bank stood a house, once the resi- 
dence of a Dr. Howlett, — a pleasant place still, with a 
magnificent prospect over the river, which winds two 
hundred feet beneath. From its roof, the spires of 
Richmond are plainly to be seen, unless, as was the 
case now, the air is too hazy to permit it. The house 
has been riddled with shell from our gunboats and 
monitors, which have made it, and a battery close 
beside it, their especial target for weeks past. In this 
battery, forming part of the line of works, was planted 
the largest and most formidable gun which the rebels 
had in front of us, — a hundred-pounder Parrott, which 
we should have been very glad to be able to silence. 

" Near this house we sat down to rest. The ice- 
house attached to it, still partially filled, furnished us 
with an unaccustomed luxury. The trees shaded a 
soft green turf, and we thought ourselves well off in 
our temporary headquarters. The morning wore 
away; and, except an occasional shot in front, all was 
quiet. We strolled about the place, examining the 



230 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

effects of shot and shell. One of the latter, a fifteen- 
inch plaything from a monitor, lay unexploded half-way 
down the steep hillside. Our boys amused themselves 
with rolling it to the bottom. 

" Lying down upon the grass, we were waiting the 
arrival of dinner, when a roar like that of a dozen 
shrieking locomotives close at hand — a shock which 
made the earth tremble beneath us ; and a tremendous 
explosion, all nearly simultaneous — startled us, not to 
use a stronger expression. Looking down the river, 
a cloud of white smoke, drifting away from the turret 
of a monitor, showed us what it meant. A hundred- 
pound rifle-shell had struck the bank just below us, 
and exploded there. We were supposed by our naval 
friends to be some of the rebels to whom they had 
been devoting their attention for a month past. While 
we still looked, another cloud of smoke rolled out from 
a second port-hole. We jumped to cover, or threw 
ourselves flat upon the earth. A second or two, and 
again the howl and explosion, — the latter not far from 
overhead ; while the huge fragments of a two-hundred- 
and-fifty-pound shell from a fifteen-inch smooth-bore 
flew all around us, — striking the trees close by, bury- 
ing themselves in the earth, or whizzing past and en- 
dangering those who stood in a redoubt some two 
hundred yards distant, — Colonel Otis and Captain 
Goodyear among them. 

" This would never do. We must contrive to let 
them know that we were friends. White handker- 



FIRED AT BY FRIENDS. 23 I 

chiefs were put in requisition, though it was doubtful 
how clearly they would be visible at a distance of 
something like a mile ; and, while the rest sought 
cover, the orderly- sergeant of Company ' H ' [now 
Lieutenant Grinsell] stood upon a tall gate-post, wav- 
ing; his signal, not flinching an inch when the second 
shell burst above him so near at hand. They saw the 
sign, fired no more shots, and presently a boat put off, 
a white flag flying at her bows, and pulled toward us ; 
the officer in charge probably expecting to receive the 
surrender of a body of rebels. He must have been 
somewhat disconcerted, I think, when near enough to 
distinguish our uniform, but took it coolly enough 
when we met him at the landing, sincerely hoped no 
one had been hurt, and was pleased to have an oppor- 
tunity to examine the effects of their fire. We com- 
plimented him on the accuracy of his shots, and 
invited him to dinner. He declined the invitation, but 
made us quite a call; filled his boat with ice, and then 
returned, — not to hear the last of it, I suspect, though, 
for some time. We have been fired at by our own 
land-forces often enough before; but this monitor- 
shelling is a new variety, and throws other artillery 
fire as much in the shade as that does musketry. No 
wonder that the rebels find gunboat practice, in the 
rare instances where they are exposed to it, so de- 
moralizing." 

The enemy's troops had been withdrawn from the 
Bermuda Hundred front to hurriedly re-enforce Peters- 



232 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

burg against Grant's attack. Lee was hastening from 
Richmond to fill the gap. General Butler deciding 
not to hold the new position, acquired at so little risk, 
the rebel works were evacuated at sundown on Gene- 
ral Terry's return from the railroad. The Tenth was 
the last regiment to fall back, being instructed to hold 
its position "at all hazards," while the other troops 
withdrew to their lines of the morning. The situation 
was a critical one ; for the enemy was coming down 
in strong force, charging the no longer defended lines 
with hideous yells, and being actually over the parapet 
at the left of the Tenth, while severely pressing its front, 
before word came for the latter to retire. Yet so firmly 
did the Tenth hold its ground, and so steady and accu- 
rate was the fire of its skirmishers, that the advance 
of the enemy was checked, and the regiment finally 
withdrew, not only in good order, but unopposed. 
The enemy quickly followed up the retiring troops, 
and attacked vigorously along the line, but were re- 
pulsed with ease. 

The next two days there was almost incessant skir- 
mishing on the Bermuda Hundred front. The closing 
page of a letter from Camp, written on the afternoon 
of the 1 8th of June, illustrates the manner in which 
his correspondence was persevered in when the only 
leisure to be found was in the intervals of active move- 
ments at the extreme front. 

"It's impossible to tell, when one commences a 
sentence, when and where he will finish it. We are 



THE TIME OF HUMMING-BIRDS. 233 

lying here now as a support to the right of our division 
picket-line, which is in danger of being flanked ; the 
center having been driven in. All had been quiet for 
some time, until, a moment or two ago, just as I was 
taking out the portfolio, a bullet or two came whizzing 
past. 'Ah!' said Henry, 'the time of the singing of 
birds has come.' 'Humming-birds' our boys call 
these rifle-bullets. There strikes another now, a little 
to my left, near where Henry stands talking with a 
group of men. I doubt whether I'm allowed to write 
many minutes more. Artillery is pounding away 
heavily toward the left. Henry returns to sit by me 
and write. That bullet was meant for him, — a man 
who stood by him saw whence it came. Their sharp- 
shooters are evidently on the lookout for us. I hope 
we shall stay where we are long enough for me to 
finish my letter. They are opening upon us now with 
spherical case, — pretty good shots too. Our officers 
and a few of the men sit upon the ground too far in 
the rear of the rifle-pits to be sheltered at all by them. 
A shot struck just now within a yard or two of our 
boys, a couple of rods to the right of where we are 
sitting; they seem to have our range exactly. I must 
close this and send it." 

The severe shelling which followed that letter- 
writing he described a few days later : 

"At half-past three Saturday morning, we were 
ordered out to support the Eleventh Maine, which 
held the right of the picket-line. We occupied a rifle- 



234 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

pit a few rods in their rear, and, having taken position, 
lay down for another nap. The morning, after our 
waking and breakfast, was chiefly occupied in writing; 
a shell from the rebel works every few minutes giving 
me subject-matter for an occasional parenthesis. All 
these passed harmless by; and we wrote on, or read 
the papers just brought up, paying them no attention, 
beyond now and then an involuntary start, when one 
came lower and nearer than usual. It seemed as if 
the rebel gunners now for the first time saw the mark 
to be aimed at.' Of this we received intimation by the 
bursting of a shell two or three rods to the left and 
rear of where we sat ; the fragments cutting twigs and 
branches from the trees above us, and the bullets with 
which it had been filled (it was a spherical case) strik- 
ing the ground in fifty places around. 

" Shell after shell now came in rapid succession, and 
with the most wonderful accuracy of direction and 
length of fuse. Henry and I had thought the first a 
chance shot, and had not moved from our seat under 
a tree, a little in the rear of the rifle-pit. But as one 
after another, at intervals of a few seconds only, ex- 
ploded nearly in the same place, we made up our 
minds that even the slight protection of the open rifle- 
pit was not to be disregarded, and took position in it 
by the side of Major Greeley, who was in command 
of the regiment. Every man was speedily ensconced 
in the same cover. As Henry rose from the ground 
to enter it, a ragged piece of iron struck within six 



A SEVERE SHELLING. 235 

inches of him : he picked it up, hot with the flame of 
the powder, and brought it with him. 

" Leaning our backs against the side of the trench 
in which we sat, we thought our danger to be only 
about one-half that of a position upon the level ground. 
Owing to the velocity of the exploding shell, few of 
its fragments fall behind or even under it. Most of 
them are thrown in front of the point at which it 
bursts. Most, I say; but, after all, it is about as un- 
pleasant to be hit by one of a dozen, as by one of two 
dozen missiles. So we looked up, and wondered — as 
each fierce explosion smote our ears to positive pain, 
filling the air with powder-smoke, and hiding for a 
moment all that was before our eyes — whether this 
was the one meant for us. 

" The air was full of flying iron and lead, pattering 
in a shower upon the ground, rattling like hail among 
the trees, cutting off branches and twigs, throwing 
down the piled-up earth of our shelter, and dashing 
up little clouds of dust above, before, behind, on all 
sides at once. Right among us in the rifle-pit they 
struck : the wonder seemed that any escaped, yet for 
a time no one was touched. A tree grew above our 
heads. Among its branches, perhaps thirty feet from 
the ground, a shell burst, tearing them to pieces, cover- 
ing us with the falling shreds of wood, bark, and leaves; 
but the shower was a harmless one. Just before where 
we sat rose a much larger tree, a pine. Mingled with 
the explosion of a shell came the sound of a sharper 



236 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

though less stunning crash. ' Look out, boys ! ' called 
some one; and down thundered the tree, its trunk 
shivered, — falling directly toward us, but a yard or 
two from our position. 

"The fire came from several directions. One gun 
in our front seemed never to fail. Every shell which 
it sent burst over some part of our line as accurately 
as if it had been thrown like a hand-grenade. Another, 
far to our right, flung its shot a few feet above our 
heads; and on they went, crashing along through the 
woods, with swift succession of sharp reports mingling 
with their shrieks as tree-trunks snapped like pipe- 
stems, their tops whirled in air, the path beneath 
marked with shivered boughs and limbs rent from 
their places of growth. Then came the explosion far 
in the rear, where were posted our reserves. 

"This shelling lasted for more than an hour. Nar- 
row escapes were, of course, the rule rather than the 
exception; still, as yet no one had been so much as 
grazed. At length there was a lull, — a little time of 
utter quiet; then came that for which all this had been 
only preparation. A wild yell sounded through the 
woods upon our left, and in a moment more there 
mingled with it the crack of a thousand rifles. Yell 
upon yell, volley upon volley, nearer and nearer every 
second. 'Make ready, boys ! ' called Major Greeley; 
and at once every man who had not already risen was 
upon his feet. Just then came one more shell, — 
almost the last which was fired : it skimmed low, 



AN ATTACK REPULSED. 237 

struck the ground a few rods in front of us, bounded 
just high enough to clear the ridge of earth before the 
rifle-pit, and strike a man who had just risen in obedi- 
ence to the order. Poor fellow ! he never knew that 
he was hit. One shoulder, half his neck, and the 
lower part of his head, were carried sheer away. He 
dropped without a groan or a quiver. Hardly any 
one knew it. Henry and I did not, though we were 
but a few yards from him. 

" Each man was leaning over the breastwork, his 
rifle at his shoulder, his eye fixed on the openings of 
the wood in front, among whose trees we expected 
every moment to see the gray coats of an advancing 
line. I haven't known since I entered the army a 
moment of more intense excitement. Nor was it over 
in a moment. Bullets were flying fast above us, but 
no enemy made his appearance. On our left the fight 
was raging fiercely; no cessation of the rapid volleys, 
no intermission of the rebel yells, which, still approach- 
ing, seemed to be just upon our flank and close at 
hand, indicating that our line had been broken but a 
few hundred yards below us. . . . 

"The fight did not reach us. Upon our left, it 
swayed back and forth, — Colonel Otis commanding 
upon our side as general officer of the day. The 
enemy, in their first rush, gained possession of part of 
our line of rifle-pits ; but were afterward driven back 
with loss of prisoners, and, at the close, we held out- 
old position. Their sharpshooters afterward annoyed 



238 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

us somewhat, — several shots being fired at Henry as 
he stood talking with the men, several at Major Greeley 
and myself; but no one was hit. Henry buried the 
poor fellow who was killed by the shell not far from 
where he fell; and we returned about dark to camp. 
At midnight, we were ordered out again, and remained 
through the Sabbath, — a quiet day. Returning once 
more to camp at evening, we saw the smoke of a rebel 
ram, which had come down the river, now returning 
under the fire of our gunboats. A prayer-meeting in 
camp closed the day pleasantly." 

In modest underestimate of his power in graphic 
delineation of these thrilling scenes of army life, he 
said : 

" I have described the same thing — or what must 
seem so to you — in the same words so often, that I 
am heartily tired of the story myself, and mean to quit 
grinding my single-tune hand-organ. If I could bring 
out the distinctive features which individualize similar 
yet widely different scenes, and make each one fresh 
in its exciting interest to us who have part in it, it 
would be worth while to attempt a new sketch for each ; 
but all that is left in my power now is, in transparent- 
slate style, to trace over again my old lines with a 
pencil that grows duller each time I repeat the experi- 
ment." 




CHAPTER XI. 

NORTH OF THE JAMES. 




^[N the afternoon of June 20, the Tenth Con- 
necticut, as a portion of Brigadier-General 
R. S. Foster's new command, marched 
down from the Bermuda Hundred front to 
Jones's Landing, and thence crossed the 
James, during the evening, in the boats on which the 
pontoon was subsequently laid. It was this move- 
ment which gave General Grant possession of Deep 
Bottom, — his base thenceforward of all operations 
north of the James. The enemy occupied the position 
at that time, and on Colonel Otis devolved the delicate 
and difficult task of establishing, between midnight 
and morning, a safe picket-line in a portion of country 
he had never visited before, pressing back the rebel 
pickets as he posted his own. Adjutant Camp had 
his full share of duty, aiding in this important work. 

Again there were weeks of picketing in close prox- 
imity to the enemy, with occasional skirmishes and 
annoyance from artillery fire. The pickets were as 

239 



24O THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

sociable as in front of Bermuda Hundred. On one 
occasion, some South-Carolinians inquired for Adjutant 
Camp and Chaplain Trumbull, whom they had guarded 
in the Columbia jail, and sent them kindly greeting. 
One morning the rebels brought down a light battery 
to Strawberry Plains and drove the gunboats out of 
range, killing and wounding quite a number on one of 
the double-enders; then threw shot and shell across 
Four Mile Creek at General Foster's headquarters and 
the camp of the Tenth, exploding shell directly over 
the tent where the field and staff of the latter sat at 
breakfast, giving hair-breadth escapes to the servants 
who were bringing in the coffee, and tearing through 
tents but a few yards distant. 

There were days of discomfort in that Southern mid- 
summer, when, as Camp said : 

"The weather we are having is beyond descrip- 
tion, — not merely heat, but an enervating influence in 
the air, that makes it seem impossible to move hand 
or foot. We should hardly have energy, if we saw 
the rebels coming over the top of the hill, to get up 
and form line, without a written order from head- 
quarters." 

And there were stormy nights of discomfort on the 
picket-line. Of one of these he wrote : 

" It threatened rain, and, before lying down to sleep, 
we made an inner roof of shelter-tents to our booth of 
boughs. The rain came. We slept quietly, and con- 
gratulated ourselves upon our forethought, until the 



PICKETING IN THE RAIN. 24I 

rising wind warned us that we were not yet safe. Our 
shelter was very slightly constructed ; it swayed to 
and fro in the gusts, and at length, as a fiercer blast 
swept along, toppled and fell with a crash, burying us 
completely. The materials of which it was built were 
not heavy enough to hurt us. We turned over, and 
went to sleep again. The wet cloth which covered us, 
and the branches piled above, were of no service in 
keeping off rain, and they made rather a heavy counter- 
pane; but it was of no use to think of building a new 
shelter then, and we lay still. Our rubber blanket 
made an excellent water-proof bottom for the puddle 
which was speedily formed around us; and, before 
morning, we were as well drenched, and as well chilled, 
as need be. It reminded me quite forcibly of my last 
December's experience in the South Carolina woods." 

One afternoon, when the Tenth was charged with 
the duty of pushing out the picket-line on either side 
of the Kingsland Road, to make room for the expected 
Nineteenth Corps, Camp had a very narrow escape on 
the vedette line from a rebel sharpshooter, close at 
hand ; the bullet striking the tree at which he stood, 
just at the height of his head. 

"Strange, how many bullets miss ! " he wrote of this, 
in coolness ; " not only those fired at random, in the 
excitement of battle, but those sent with deliberate 
aim, and at short range." 

His perils and privations seemed only to remind him 
that he was doing and enduring something for the 

16 



242 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

cause he loved, and to give him fresh reason for thank- 
fulness that he was again in the field. 

"Ah! those poor fellows in Columbia, and their 
friends, — am I not grateful, and you for me, that I am 
not there ? My prison life seems to me already like a 
dream. I don't remember much about it now that 
the nightmare has left me. How much better to come 
back here and be shot, if that proves the alternative, 
than to have stayed where I was ! " 

He never dwelt on the dark side of his personal lot 
in hard service. He was never despondent for the 
national cause. No matter how much he suffered, no 
matter how much of gloom seemed to others to en- 
shroud the civil or the military situation, he was always 
contented and hopeful. The pillar by which God led 
him through the wilderness was of brightness by day 
and by night. 

After a night under arms at the Deep Bottom in- 
trenchments, the Tenth moved over Four Mile Creek 
to Strawberry Plains, near Haxall's Landing, on the 
morning of July 26, to assist the Eleventh Maine in 
retaking a line of rebel rifle-pits on the Malvern Hill 
Road, captured some days before by the latter regi- 
ment, and yielded again by a portion of the Nineteenth 
Corps. Then followed a day of sharp skirmishing ; 
the rebels contesting obstinately every foot of ground, 
yet gradually falling back. In the forenoon, while the 
fight was opening, and the Tenth had not yet advanced 
to the extreme front, Camp wrote : 



AT STRAWBERRY PLAINS. 243 

"The regiment has stacked arms by the roadside 
where the shaded path winds pleasantly up from the 
river-bank. Headquarters are under a large tree just 
in the rear of the line. Henry and I, who always 
carry writing materials in a little haversack which we 
keep by us, are writing our letters in the interval of 
rest. The gunboats are firing over our heads at the 
rebels in front; and each explosion, so near are we to 
the muzzles of the guns, makes one feel as if both ears 
were being boxed with sledge-hammers, and the top 
of his head flattened with a pile-driver. Field-pieces 
are being rapidly worked at the top of the bank above 
us, and the reports are almost incessant. 

"As I write, one of our men is being carried past, 
wounded in the arm by the premature explosion of a 
shell. Henry has left his writing to attend to him. 
He was one of a detachment stationed at a redan in 
front of our halting-place. It is said the gunboats are 
using some captured rebel ammunition which doesn't 
fit the guns. Ten minutes ago, a poor fellow was 
carried by on a stretcher with his foot torn completely 
off by a shell which burst short of its mark, and killed 
instantly one of his companions. How much of this 
artillery blundering we have seen! Some one ought 
to be tried and shot for it. Henry returns, saying 
that our man has only received a slight flesh-wound. 
He was lying down behind the breastworks, and 
thought that there certainly he was safe. We are 
coming to the conclusion that the only place where 



244 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

one is really out. of danger is at the extreme front. 
They are firing now so directly above our heads that 
I have to stop, and brush from my paper the leaves 
and twigs cut off by the shot, and falling about us in 
showers. I hope they have good ammunition on that 
boat, — no short fuses, — and that they won't drop any 
very large branches on us." 

The sun and the fire — both artillery and musketry 
— were extremely hot that day. The fighting was 
Indian style, man by man from tree to tree; the Union 
skirmish-line pushing the enemy's similar line back 
steadily, or, rather, forcing a way, wedge-shape, into it. 
When evening came, the handful t>f men from General 
Foster's command held a salient angle in the woods, 
running into the enemy's position of the morning, 
where they were fronted and flanked by a superior 
force. The picket-posts were for a portion of the way 
within a few yards of each other ; so that even a heavily 
drawn breath could be heard across the lines, and con- 
versation in an ordinary tone was distinctly audible. 
General Grant had telegraphed an order, just before 
night, to hold every inch that had been gained, he 
promising help before morning. The pickets of the 
Tenth lay concealed in the low underbrush. If they 
discovered themselves by the crackling of a twig, they 
were liable to be silenced by a shot from just in their 
front; and the preparations for the morning, which 
they could hear the enemy making, were anything but 
encouraging. Artillery was brought down, and so 



AN EXCITING WATCH. 245 

planted that the pickets could almost have looked into 
the gun-muzzles ; while a single discharge of grape 
from the battery could sweep them away like chaff 
from the enfiladed picket-line. They could hear the 
braggart threats of annihilation of the venturesome 
Yankees when the daylight came, and they realized 
their danger; yet all who were unwounded remained 
firm and true. Adjutant Camp crept along that entire 
line, conveying orders, at imminent risk, not only of 
being shot, but of passing within the enemy's lines ; the 
latter being nearer to some posts than the next vedette, 
and the way being found only with greatest difficulty 
in the gathering darkness. 

A pleasant incident, to Camp, of that evening, was 
the meeting of a college classmate, Wiswell, a captain 
of the Eleventh Maine, who had recently returned to 
his regiment after an absence of some months, and 
been all that day on the skirmish-line. Glad always 
to meet a college companion, Camp especially de- 
lighted to find one as a comrade in arms. 

There was not much sleeping that night among 
officers or men of the Tenth, — only an anxious wait- 
ing for the morning whose sun must rise in blood. 
Word was received that the pontoon bridge was being 
deadened with straw that a moving column might 
pass it noiselessly, and that a large force of cavalry 
was on the south bank of the river. About daylight 
the Second Corps crossed over from Jones's Landing, 
having marched hurriedly from Petersburg. Generals 



246 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

Hancock and Sheridan were present with their com- 
mands. Then, in the words of Camp: 

" Soon after sunrise the advance of our forces com- 
menced. From our station at the picket-reserve, we 
had a capital view of all that was done. A column of 
men moved forward across the plain on our right ; the 
pickets of the enemy fell back as they approached, and 
they descended into the valley without serious opposi- 
tion. Here, sheltered by the rise of ground before 
them from fire, they formed an open skirmish-line, 
each man with room to act independently, and moved 
up the slope. We watched them with intent eager- 
ness. As they rose to the level beyond, a sharp volley 
greeted them ; and instantly the air was white and the 
hillside dotted with puffs of smoke as each man halted 
for an instant where he stood, fired, and moved on, 
loading for another discharge. There is one poor 
fellow down ! and an officer, a surgeon perhaps, bend- 
ing over him. There are half a dozen more! — not all 
of them wounded, however: they are lying flat for 
cover, and we can see them loading and firing indus- 
triously. There are two or three mounted officers — 
one of them with a straw hat — cantering about among 
the men. That looks to us like recklessness. We 
are in the habit of seeing officers go into a fight dis- 
mounted; but we can't help admiring their pluck. 

" Now most of the line has disappeared behind the 
crest of the hill which slopes down toward the rebel 
works just beyond; and we can judge only from the 






THE STRAW- HAT HERO. 247 

rapid rifle-cracks that the fight is being hotly con- 
tested. By this time they must be up to the works. 
But what does this mean? There are men moving 
the wrong way; there come two or three on the run, 
and twenty follow them. Is it a panic ? No : the men 
halt as soon as they have gained the partial shelter of 
the slope, and open fire again. It is plain that the first 
attack has failed; but they don't mean to give it up 
yet. They are all on this side of the crest now, in 
plain sight; and their officers are urging them on for 
another rush. A good deal of the dash has been taken 
out of them, however, by that unsuccessful attempt; 
and they don't like to go beyond the slope. 

"The horseman with the straw hat gallops to and 
fro, waving his sword, pointing to the front, pressing 
them to come up once more. Some are ready to try 
it. The color-bearer rushes forward, stands on the 
highest point of ground where the bullets must be 
flying like hail, turns, and waves his colors to those 
behind. We can hardly help cheering the brave 
fellow, and that noble rider who is in front of all, dash- 
ing on, and calling them to follow. We expect every 
moment to see him go down, and strain our eyes with 
eager watching. How can men help following him ? 
But no: too many hold back ; and those who are will- 
ing are discouraged, and give way too. Yet the straw- 
hat man won't give it up so. If it can't be done in 
one way, perhaps it can in another. He'll try flank- 
ing them. There is a little depression in the ground 



248 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

on the right. He plants the colors in a sheltered spot, 
forms line there, and moves off in this direction, ap- 
proaching obliquely the rebel works ; and his men, 
ready for anything except that in which they have just 
failed, start after him with a rush. They are speedily 
out of sight. 

"Again comes the sound of sharp musketry; but 
this time there is no falling back : it grows more and 
more distant, and before long we hear that the works 
are taken and four Parrott guns with them. Our own 
men deserve part of the credit, though they won't be 
likely to get it. That part of the picket-line which 
was nearest opened an effective fire upon the enemy, 
and, besides the loss which they inflicted, made the 
Richmond Road so hot, that horses couldn't be 
brought down to withdraw the artillery before the 
works were abandone'd. 

"We met the officer in the straw hat within the 
works. Henry talked with him, and learned that 
he was lieutenant-colonel of the One Hundred and 
Eighty -third Pennsylvania, commanding a brigade in 
Barlow's Division of Hancock's Corps, — a very fine- 
looking fellow, and modest as he was brave. His 
name was Lynch. His hat had been pierced by a 
bullet, and his horse shot under him ; but he had come 
out without a scratch. A lieutenant-colonel com- 
manding a brigade ! Think how the corps must have 
been cut up! " 

The Tenth returned to its camp at Deep Bottom, 



ANOTHER PICKET-FIGHT. 249 

and resumed picket-duty, with an occasional demon- 
stration against the enemy, or the meeting of an attack 
on its line. An affair of the latter kind Camp thus 
described : 

"A week ago Monday (August 1), we were out on 
picket. The day had passed quietly. Henry, seldom 
absent at any time, and least of all when the regiment 
is at the front, had been called away by business on 
the other side of the river. It was almost time for us 
to be relieved, — late in the afternoon, — when several 
shots were suddenly fired upon the line in front. They 
did not start us; but, when half a dozen more came 
in rapid succession, Captain Goodyear, who was in 
command, ordered the reserve to stand to arms. A 
messenger came; the enemy were advancing. We 
marched immediately to the point of attack, and re- 
enforced the picket-line with the reserve deployed as 
skirmishers. Quite a brisk little fight followed, Indian 
fashion, — every one, except officers, to his tree, cover- 
ing himself, keeping a sharp lookout for the similarly 
protected enemy, and firing whenever he caught a 
glimpse of a gray jacket. 

"Twice the rebels attempted to charge, setting up a 
feeble yell, which was rather encouraging from its lack 
of force than disheartening. Finding these Chinese 
tactics unavailing, our men firmly holding their ground, 
they finally retired. Then came the turn of our boys; 
and the complimentary yells, the hoots, and the cock- 
crowing, which followed them as they gave way and 



25O THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

left the ground, must have been soothing enough. 
What their loss was we could not determine: ours was 
three men wounded, — one mortally, dying the next 
day; another severely, but not dangerously. The 
bullet which struck the third was checked in its prog- 
ress by passing through a stout tin cup and a haver- 
sack well filled with hard-tack, — almost bullet-proof, — 
and inflicted only a slight wound. Henry was on 
hand before the affair was fairly over, having heard 
the firing on his way back, and run his horse all the 
rest of the distance. The boys chuckled over his ap- 
pearance, believing that, if he had been twenty miles 
farther off, it would have made no difference. Whether 
I was glad to see him, and he me, I needn't say." 

Camp gave the following thrilling sketch of the 
first military execution which he witnessed, occurring 
August 8, at Deep Bottom. 

"A singular incident took place on our picket-line 
a short time since. A deserter who came in at the 
Grover House was recognized by the Twenty-fourth 
Massachusetts men, who were on duty there, as one 
of their old comrades, who had deserted to the enemy 
two years ago, while the regiment was at New-Berne. 
Tired of the rebel service, and encouraged by former 
success in shifting sides, he had again run the lines, 
and thought, on reaching our posts, that his danger 
was over, little suspecting, until it was too late, that 
he had walked straight into his old regiment. Had 
he entered from any other point of the whole rebel 



A DESERTER CAUGHT. 25 I 

territory, had he made the attempt on any other day 
than the one on which the Twenty -fourth guarded 
the line, or, even then, had not a little drummer-boy 
accidentally present, who was a member of the same 
company to which he had belonged, remembered 
him, he would have escaped without recognition. 
Humanly speaking, his chances were a thousand 
to one for safety, after having once passed the rebel 
vedettes. 

" He was, of course, held. Charges were preferred 
against him, he was tried, convicted, and sentenced to 
be shot in presence of the brigade to which he had 
been attached while in our service. The orders were 
received on Sunday last. Colonel Osborn of the 
Twenty-fourth was charged with their execution. He 
sent for Henry to talk with the man, — a hardened 
desperado, at first reckless, defiant, professing utter 
carelessness as to his future, either in this world or the 
next. . . . Softened at length, he acknowledged his 
anxiety and fear, sobbed, broke down utterly, and 
desired that prayer should be made for him. The 
execution was to take place at four in the afternoon, 
on Monday. The condemned man was a Catholic ; 
and a priest had been sent for [from the Petersburg 
front] on Sunday night, Henry preferring, of course, 
that the man's wishes should be consulted in such a 
matter; but it was doubtful whether one could be 
found and brought to the place in time. One arrived, 
however, before daylight ; and Henry was spared the 



252 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

exceedingly trying duties which had seemed likely to 
devolve upon him. 

"At half-past three the regiments of the brigade 
were formed, each upon its own parade-ground, and 
then marched to a wide open plain, bounded on one 
side by a gentle slope. Here they were formed in 
three sides of a hollow square, — the fourth being the 
vacant hillside : there was a newly dug grave, with 
the fresh earth heaped beside it. The proceedings 
of the court-martial and the order for the execution 
were now read to each regiment; I, of course, per- 
forming the duty for our own. Meantime a small 
column was slowly approaching the place. In the 
center was a wagon containing the prisoner, securely 
fettered. The priest rode with him. A strong guard 
marched in front and rear. At their head, a band 
played plaintive funeral music, swelling solemnly above 
a heavy undertone of muffled drums. In the distance, 
they hardly seemed to move, and the sound of the 
dead-march came softly to our ears. At length they 
drew near, approaching with slow measured tread ; 
the drum-beat was a deep subdued roll of thunder, the 
notes of the wind instruments were a piercing wail, as 
they passed before us and halted opposite the grave. 
Then all was silence. Every eye was turned toward 
one spot, every ear attentive. But for the impatient 
stamping of officers' horses and those of the cavalry 
squadron drawn up on the hillside, there was hardly 
more sound than if the place was the same solitary 



A MILITARY EXECUTION. 253 

field it had been before armies encamped and marched 
upon Virginia soil. 

"The prisoner left the wagon; he seemed to step 
firmly and boldly upon the ground ; but we were too 
distant to see the expression which his face wore. 
The priest was by his side. They knelt by the grave, 
and prayer was offered, inaudible to any but the con- 
demned. Then a platoon of twelve men, led by an 
officer, marched out, halted a few paces in front of the 
spot, and faced toward it. The officer advanced, and 
read to the prisoner the proceedings of the court and 
its sentence, — a cruel formality it seemed, a needless 
lengthening of the terrible suspense. Did the prisoner 
wait with nervous impatience, as we did, for the worst 
to come? or did he wish each sentence was a volume, 
that he might cling a little longer to life ? 

" The reading was finished, a broad white bandage 
was bound about his eyes ; and, with arms firmly 
pinioned behind his back, he was made to kneel upon 
the coffin of unpainted pine which had been placed 
before the grave. Then for the first time the guard 
left his side, and all fell back who had stood around 
him. There was a hush, in comparison with which 
the former silence had been tumult. 

"The officer in command of the firing party waved 
his sword: each piece was brought to a 'ready.' 
Again, and they were leveled in aim. The third time, 
and a quick sharp volley sounded through a cloud of 
smoke. The blindfold, pinioned form tottered for a 



254 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

moment; then bent forward, and pitched heavily to 
the ground. There was a long breath of relief drawn 
by each who looked on, — it was over, was it? There 
might yet be a doubt. The officers stepped forward 
with a surgeon to examine the body, which lay prone 
and motionless in its suite of rebel gray. The lungs 
still feebly expanded, and a low moan seemed to 
issue from them. Mere mechanical action, the sur- 
geon thought; but a platoon which had been held in 
reserve was speedily ordered up, a second volley fired, 
and life at length was pronounced utterly extinct. 
Then the whole force was wheeled into column, and 
marched slowly past the corpse, a gory, ghastly sight, 
lying where it fell, pierced with twenty bullets. 

" We returned to camp late in the afternoon. The 
scene had been one of the most impressive we had 
ever witnessed, and its effect upon the men, I think, 
just what it was designed to be. We had never before 
been present at a military execution; and the death 
penalty, so common in the sentences of courts-martial, 
so seldom hitherto carried into effect, had ceased, in a 
measure, to possess significance. The case was an 
aggravated one, and well deserved capital punish- 
ment, — not merely desertion, but desertion to the 
enemy, and long service against his comrades. The 
man claimed never to have been in action, but was for 
some months on guard at the Libby. Henry ques- 
tioned him as to the time : it was between the periods 
of our visits to Richmond, but including neither. 



A CONCESSION TO SENTIMENT. 255 

Twenty bullets I said at random : there ought to have 
been twenty. I have learned since that there were 
but thirteen, — five of the first volley, eight of the 
second; twenty-two in all being fired. There were 
twenty-four men ; but, on all such occasions, one in 
each platoon has a blank cartridge, none but the officer 
knowing which it is. Any, therefore, who may shrink 
from the feeling that he has done executioner's duty, 
and has blood other than that of an enemy upon his 
hands, is at liberty to believe, if he chooses, that his 
was not the fatal shot. Does it seem strange to find 
among soldiers such horror of blood, and such con- 
siderate regard for the feelings? Just the place to 
look for both ! " 

Sunday morning, August 14, opened a week of hard 
fighting for the armies of the Potomac and the James. 
The latter moved toward Richmond from Deep Bottom 
to enable the former to establish itself on the Weldon 
Road. General Terry's division did most of the fight- 
ing north of the James ; General Foster's brigade losing 
in the week fully one-third of its entire available force; 
the other brigade suffering also severely. 

Camp thus describes the opening, and some of the 
later incidents, of the week's operations: 

" Last Saturday, we had orders to be ready for a 
move. Those who pretended to have any opinion on 
the subject talked of Washington, the Shenandoah, or 
Weldon. We packed, and went to bed late and tired. 



256 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

At 4 A. M. (Sunday) came orders to fall in at once 
(there was great haste), and march to the picket-line. 
Halfway there, an order to double-quick ; within five 
minutes, the same again. At the front, General Foster 
was waiting for us ; his orders had been to attack 
at daylight. We must move forward at once, — not 
precisely like a trip to Washington ! 

"We formed line, threw out skirmishers, and ad- 
vanced, connecting with other regiments on the right 
and left. A very few minutes, and the fight was brisk. 
The main body of the regiment was halted, and the 
men lay down, while officers moved up and down the 
line; skirmishers dodged from tree to tree, and bullets 
pattered fast in all directions. Henry and I had on 
straw hats, unsuited for a fight, though well adapted 
for a journey toward the Shenandoah; and Henry 
secured caps, first for me, and afterward for himself, — 
one belonging to one of our wounded men, the other 
to one just shot dead. A hat was better for the first, 
none the worse for the second. 

" Going down the line, I stopped to deliver an order 
to Lieutenant Sharp. We stood for a moment talk- 
ing; and I had hardly turned away when a bullet 
passed through his head just behind the eyes. Officers 
went down fast. Captain Quinn had charge of the 
skirmishers. Two of his men, stepping in succession 
behind a large tree which seemed to offer excellent 
shelter, fell, — one dead, the other severely wounded. 
He moved forward to the same place, and was in- 



CHARGE AND COUNTERCHARGE. 257 

stantly shot dead ; all three within two minutes. It 
was some time before his body could be recovered. 
Captain Webb was wounded, and carried back; and 
presently we saw two men helping Lieutenant Brown 
to the rear with a bullet through his leg. A moment 
after I left Sharp, I came upon one of our men lying 
on the ground with the blood pouring from a wound 
in the shoulder. Asking his name of those who stood 
by, I was told it was Dwyer, of Company F. He 
looked up as I inquired. 'I'm a dead man, Adjutant' 
' I hope not,' said I ; but he knew too well : he did not 
live to be carried from the field. 

" There was a yell from the rebels in front, a louder 
crash of musketry. Our skirmishers stood fast, and 
drove back the advancing enemy ; but, on our left, 
men came pouring back in panic. We helped their 
officers to rally them; the rebels dared not follow 
them up; the line was re-established, and the fight 
went on as before. This had lasted more than an 
hour when the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, which 
had been held in reserve, came marching up in double 
column: they were to charge through the dense wood 
upon the rifle-pits beyond. We had orders to follow, 
and support them. They moved forward splendidly, 
with well-closed lines and steady step; they passed us 
a few rods, and the undergrowth hid them from sight. 
We came after in line of battle. Not very sleepy work, 
such an advance as that. 

"Two or three minutes passed; the same irregular 
17 



258 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

fire in front, and, with a long tremendous cheer, the 
Twenty-fourth made their rush. Our boys needed no 
orders ; a shout burst from every throat, and the whole 
line dashed on. But, instead of the fierce volleys we 
expected to meet, there, on reaching open ground, was 
the line of works deserted. The yell and the charge 
had been too much for the nerves of our friends in 
gray; and, almost without another shot, they had 
turned, and made the best of their way to the rear. 
It was a strong position, and an attacking force might 
have been made to suffer fearful loss. The Twenty- 
fourth took twenty or thirty prisoners, — as contented 
and happy a looking set of fellows, as they marched 
off, as I ever saw. No wonder ! " 

After a brief rest, the Tenth was ordered to a new 
position; and the day was passed in marching and 
countermarching, and covering by skirmish -line the 
movements of other commands. In the evening, during 
a severe storm, the regiment moved over to Strawberry 
Plains, — where it had aided in the capture of the Par- 
rott guns a few weeks before, — and there halted until 
daylight. Monday was intensely hot. The march up 
the New Market Road was exhausting; men by the 
score fell smitten with sunstroke. The only rest secured 
to the Third Brigade was during the afternoon under a 
sharp artillery fire near Silver Hill. The night again 
called for picket-duty on an exposed front. Before day- 
light of Tuesday the troops were up and in line, ready 
for a start, and by five o'clock were on the move. 



LOST IN THE WOODS. 259 

An attack on the enemy's new position was begun 
about eight o'clock. Camp's narrative thus continues : 

"A skirmish-line was thrown out to cover the ad- 
vance ; but the woods were so thick that it was almost 
impossible for them to regulate their movements as 
they should by ours. We marched in line of battle, 
changing direction by order. They became separated 
from us, and we from the troops upon our left; so 
that our flank was swung, entirely exposed, far to the 
front. Colonel Otis, becoming anxious at this state 
of affairs, sent me forward to find, if possible, and bring 
into position, the skirmishers. Twenty paces into the 
thicket, and the regiment and I were lost to each 
other. 

" I haven't confidence enough in my own bump of 
locality to enjoy such exploring expeditions as these, 
even when nothing serious or important is at stake; 
and, when I know that lives may hang upon my mov- 
ing a few yards too far to the right or the left, there is 
nothing in open battle from which I so much shrink. 
It was a blind search. I moved rapidly to where the 
line should have been : there was no sign of it. Then 
forward, more carefully, through thicket, over fallen 
trees, across swamps, until I came to a ravine. I 
halted to listen if I could hear men anywhere moving, 
parting the bushes, or treading on dry leaves. No 
sound: the woods were as quiet and apparently as 
tenantless as if I were in the wilderness beyond the 
Rocky Mountains. 



260 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

"The ravine would be a good line of defense; the 
opposite side a very likely position to meet an enemy. 
Yet I could not turn back with no other report than 
that I had found nobody and seen nothing. So I went 
down the hill, crossed the brook at its foot, and, with 
cocked pistol in hand, moved cautiously up the oppo- 
site slope, keeping a sharp eye upon each tree, each 
bush, each fallen log, that might cover a rebel picket. 
Nervous work. Just at the crest was a little pile of 
fresh earth, — a rifle-pit! It was empty. I satisfied 
myself of that point, and then went up to examine 
it. It was large enough to shelter but a single man, 
hastily dug, and apparently not more than twenty- 
four hours old ; undoubtedly occupied the night be- 
fore by one of their pickets. I was glad he had 
fallen back before I came down to the brook opposite 
his post. 

" I didn't feel called upon to go any farther, having 
reached what had been so recently the rebel line; and 
returned, after a little farther wandering, to the regi- 
ment, reporting what I had and had not seen. Colonel 
Otis sent me to General Foster, who inquired if I had 
been beyond the ravine, and, on my explanation, sent 
word to the division commander; and a brigade was 
ordered to fill the gap in the line. 

"The skirmishers, who had gone far to the right, at 
length made their way back to us, and the regiment, 
advancing, finally crossed the same brook I had been 
over, and halted in rear of the slope, while the skir- 



DRIVING THE ENEMY. 26 1 

mishers ascended. The latter had hardly reached the 
high ground, when the enemy's line opened upon them 
from just beyond ; and they were immediately engaged 
in a brisk skirmish. We lay down ; Henry and I sitting 
together by a fallen tree, while bullets flew fast over 
our heads. Not all overhead. As Colonel Otis and 
I were passing down toward the left to examine the 
position, we came upon an officer lying dead or just 
dying, — the blood oozing from a ghastly wound. Not 
a soldier near him: he had either come as I came, 
alone, or been abandoned by his men. We, of course, 
could do nothing for him then; but the colonel after- 
ward had opportunity to speak of him to some of his 
own regiment, and the body was carried away. 

" The officers of our skirmish-line soon sent back 
word that they were pushing the enemy; had already 
driven him from two lines of rifle-pits, and only wanted 
supports to keep him going. Two more companies 
were immediately sent. They had hardly had time 
to reach position, when a cheer rang through the 
woods far to our right, and came rolling down the line. 
We knew that Hawley's brigade was charging. The 
Twenty-fourth took it up. Our boys sprang to their 
feet, and joined in the shout. Colonel Otis gave the 
word, and the line rushed on, over the brow of the 
hill, through the undergrowth where the skirmishing 
had been so sharp, straight on without halt or hesita- 
tion, while the rebel skirmishers vanished from before, 
until the main line of rifle-pits was reached and occu- 



262 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

pied. But to the left, where our skirmishers extended 
far beyond the flank of the regiment, the enemy pressed 
them hard; and we heard they were beginning to fall 
back. Henry and I went in that direction, and, mov- 
ing a short distance through the low pines, saw before 
us a few of our men coming in from the front; not in 
panic, but in steady retreat. We jumped forward, and 
called to them to halt and stand firm. ' Orders to fall 
back, sir!' said one. 'Boys!' shouted Henry, 'the 
Tenth never falls back ! ' Ah ! there came a staff- 
officer, terribly flustered, and on a trot toward the 
rear. ' There were orders,' said he, apologetically, 
seeming to perceive, as I met him, that I felt some- 
thing more than mild surprise. 'They came down 
from the right.' — ' I am from the right,' said I ; ' there 
are no such orders there.' He sneaked away; and 
our men, finding that they need not retreat, promptly 
advanced once more toward the front. 

" The regiment, having halted, and formed and 
dressed its ranks, soon moved forward again to a posi- 
tion near the edge of a second and much larger ravine, 
on the opposite side of which the rebels were in- 
trenched in strong works curving around our left ; so 
that the ground held by our advance was swept by a 
cross-fire against which no ordinary cover afforded 
security. Word came from the skirmish-line that 
Captain White was wounded seriously, it was feared 
mortally. Henry saw to his being carried back to the 
hospital, where the other wounded had already gone, 



BRANDISHING WATERMELON. 263 

and to which he was himself summoned, a few minutes 
later, by a message from one of them. ... In a short 
time Henry returned; how glad we were to meet in 
safety! With thoughtful kindness, he brought for us 
a huge watermelon. It was speedily cut and divided, 
General Foster very glad to get his share. What 
could have been more refreshing under fire ? Before 
it was finished, orders were given for our regiment to 
swing around, fronting the left, and covering the flank, 
upon which an attack was momentarily expected. It 
was comical enough to see officers forming their men, 
enforcing their orders with brandished slices of melon, 
and taking a bite between each command. 

"The remainder of the day was occupied with con- 
tinual skirmishing, the main body being so near the 
advance as to get the benefit of the fire from the 
enemy. Officers and men sheltered themselves as 
well as possible. . . . Men fell near us, both in the 
regimental line and among the skirmishers ; but our 
loss was slight in comparison with that of the morn- 
ing's advance. There was rain during the afternoon; 
but we were not in the mood to be greatly concerned 
about a wetting. At dusk we retired a few rods to 
the rifle-pits we had captured in the morning, — a much 
more defensible position than that we had occupied 
during the day, — and commenced at once throwing 
up a line of works fronting toward the enemy. Large 
details from each regiment were set at work chopping 
and shoveling; and by two in the morning a strong 



264 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

breastwork, three or four feet thick at the top, and 
covered on the inside with well-braced logs, covered 
the front of the whole brigade. We should have been 
glad of sleep after such a day as had passed, but we 
contented ourselves with a morning nap ; and slept all 
the more soundly for knowing that we were ready in 
case of an attack. 

"Our loss during the day had been less in officers, 
but greater in men, than on Monday. Captain White 
was one of the finest officers in the regiment. We 
hear now that his situation is exceedingly critical [he 
died in hospital]. Colonel Otis and Lieutenant Savage 
were each hit, but not severely enough to take them 
from the field. It was the third bullet or shell con- 
tusion, not drawing blood, which the colonel has 
received in battle, — singular, isn't it? Wounds of this 
sort are sometimes quite painful and troublesome for 
weeks or even months. 

" Poor Dennis Mahoney was shot through the body 
early in the day. It was he who sent for Henry to 
come to the hospital and see him. He was the ideal of 
a private soldier. Tall and fine-looking; always neat 
and soldierly in dress and equipments ; always cheerful 
and prompt in duty; brave, to recklessness ; never 
missing a chance to volunteer for an expedition, a 
scout, or any service of danger; full of fun and dash 
and spirit, — it would have been difficult to match him 
in the regiment. . . . 

" I was reported killed myself, and talked next day 



ATTACKED WHILE WITHDRAWING. 265 

with those who had not only been told by men of our 
regiment that I had fallen, but who had themselves 
seen and recognized my body as it lay upon the field, 
— so they certainly thought. I am glad to believe the 
story couldn't well reach you." 

The hastily erected breastworks were held for forty- 
eight hours ; one or two attempts being made by the 
enemy, meantime, at different points, to break the line. 
Thursday noon there were indications of a contem- 
plated withdrawal of the Union troops. 

"The movement which we expected," wrote Camp, 
" commenced late in the afternoon ; the troops on 
the right retiring first, and so, brigade after brigade, 
down the line. The time for us to march had not yet 
come. Hawley's brigade was passing, when a sharp 
fire opened a little to our right, and speedily became 
general along the whole picket-line. The enemy had 
evidently discovered that we were moving, and meant 
to take advantage of it. Hawley's men were hurried 
back just in time; for the rebels came on with a rush 
and a yell. All along our front the woods rang with 
their shouts and the rapid reports of musketry; while 
the pickets, pressed back by numbers, came hurrying 
in, climbing over the works, and somewhat inclined, 
part of them, to continue their movement toward the 
rear. 

" Hardly waiting for all of these to come in, two 
regiments near us now opened fire. The whole line 
of works was ablaze with rifle-flashes, and the sound 



266 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

was one continuous roar. Our regiment was in re- 
serve, deployed in long open line, ten or fifteen yards 
behind the others, and deprived, of course, in great 
measure, of the shelter afforded by the works. There 
was already some unsteadiness among those who were 
firing, when our own artillery opened from a position 
some distance to the rear, intending to fire over our 
heads, but dropping almost every shell with horrible 
precision directly among us. Henry was standing a 
few yards from me, when one of them exploded in his 
very face, seemingly but a few inches above and before 
him, knocking him down, blinded and almost stunned, 
by the flash and the concussion. It was a spherical 
case. The fragments and the bullets they had en- 
closed tore the trees and the ground all around, — be- 
fore, behind, and on every side; but, most wonderfully 
and providentially, he was unhurt. At the same 
moment, another exploded among the men in front of 
our regiment. It was more than they could stand. 
A dozen started for the rear, a hundred followed, then 
the whole line broke, turned back, and surged away 
from the works, through our line, and into the woods. 
"Our boys sprang forward to fill, as well as their 
thin line enabled them to, the vacancy, and with cool 
determination held the enemy at bay. The Twenty- 
fourth Massachusetts stood firm on our right, — New 
England Yankees, every man ; all this was like a flash. 
As the break commenced, our officers rushed among 
the fugitives, shouted encouragement, entreated, threat- 



STAYING A PANIC. 267 

ened, seized them, and flung them back to the front, — 
all did our best to turn the tide. I haven't worked so 
since the Worcester regatta. We were in some degree 
successful. A dozen looked on hesitatingly while our 
major flogged an officer, a six-foot skulker, back to 
the works with the flat of his sword, and concluded to 
stay there themselves. Indeed, I ought to say that 
many of the regiment stood fast from the first. . . . 

" Having persuaded the enemy not to interfere with 
us, the movement was resumed. Our regiment formed 
the rearguard, as so often before ; and, retiring but a 
short distance, established a new picket-line, behind 
which the rest of the army kept on its way toward the 
river. No advance was attempted by the rebels until 
morning, when they occupied, without resistance, the 
works which we had abandoned. It was about 3 A. M. 
when we lay down. 

"A rainy night was followed by a rainy day. Our 
pickets had some sharp exchanges of shots with the 
rebel skirmishers. Six bullets struck the tree behind 
which Sergeant Peck, of Company A, sheltered him- 
self; and one or two of our men on advanced posts 
narrowly escaped capture. At dark on Friday our 
pickets were all gathered in, and we marched over 
roads of horrible mud, through the rain, until we 
reached, about midnight, the rest of the brigade, again 
behind strong works, at no great distance from the 
river. Our tired men stretched themselves upon the 
soaked ground. We had a little fire built, and our 



268 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

shelter-tents stretched. Henry and I, however, had 
been, without our rubber coats, to gather in pickets at 
dark, and were too thoroughly drenched to be dried 
in one night. So we lay down, and, once asleep, it 
made no difference. Saturday was another quiet, rainy 
day. We marched at dark ; reached Strawberry 
Plains ; again established a picket-line to cover gene- 
ral movements. 

" Establishing a picket-line at midnight, stretching 
a mile or more from right to left, especially if the 
weather is dark and stormy, is no joke; but we are 
pretty well accustomed to it now. A short sleep and 
we were up again at daybreak. All was safe. We 
were the only troops who had not crossed the river. 
Falling back in skirmishing-line, lest the enemy should 
attack at the last moment, we assembled on the river- 
bank, marched down to the water's edge, across the 
pontoon, which workmen were already taking to 
pieces, and stood once more upon the neck of land 
along which lay the safe road to camp. It was the 
first time for a week when we had felt secure from 
immediate attack — a pleasant relief from the continued 
strain of watchful anxiety. An hour more, and the 
early Sabbath morning found us in our pleasant old 
camp, weary with a week of toil and of battle, rejoicing 
in the day of quiet and of rest." 

The Tenth had taken out from camp fifteen line- 
officers and about three hundred and forty men. Its 
casualties, during the week of absence, were seven 



REST ENJOYED AND BROKEN. 269 

officers and sixty-five men killed and wounded, and 
three men taken prisoners. 

Of the twenty-four hours succeeding the return of 
his regiment, Camp wrote: 

"Sunday, August 21, we had a quiet day of rest, 
though there was too much to do, in the way of re- 
establishing ourselves, to allow us to lie down and 
sleep, as we would gladly have done. We looked 
forward to the night, determined to go to bed as soon 
after dark as possible, and sleep a good ten hours 
before rising again. Henry held a prayer-meeting, 
unusually interesting and - well attended, at dusk, in 
our large commissary tent, and we returned to our 
own quarters. Wouldn't we have a good rest now? 
Orders had arrived to be ready for an immediate 
march! The explosion of a mine under us would 
have been nothing to it. Not that there was any 
burst of indignation, or any considerable degree of 
grumbling. I have known five times as much over 
trifles not worth speaking of; but it seemed to finish 
up whatever of cheerful energy was left by the weari- 
ness of the week among officers or men. There were 
the orders ; there was nothing more to be said. We 
made our preparations in a dogged, mechanical kind 
of a way. Henry and I took a bath — more refreshing 
than sleep — and lay down for a nap before word came 
for the march. It arrived just before midnight. 
Where we were bound, no one knew ; but it was 
rumored that we were to charge the works in front 



27O THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

of our old position at Bermuda Hundred — works 
which once before, when the enemy had voluntarily 
abandoned them, we could not hold against his return; 
works behind which, with approaches swept by cross- 
fire of artillery and infantry, impassable abattis, and 
deep ditch, a brigade might hold at bay an army- 
corps. . . . 

" We marched silently and gloomily. More than 
one man fell from the ranks and was left by the road- 
side, not because he shrank from sharing the risk of 
his comrades, but because, from mere exhaustion, he 
was unable to go farther. So we moved slowly along 
our way, until about half the distance was accom- 
plished ; then came orders, unexpected as the first, to 
about-face, and march back to camp. A much more 
cheerful and free-spoken set of men promptly complied 
with them ; and we reached our quarters again about 
4.30 A. M. 

" It was true that General Birney had issued orders 
for an attack upon those works — why countermanded 
we do not learn — and there was reason to believe that 
our brigade would have had the advance in the storm- 
ing party. Our men, had they been led to the assault, 
would have fought well, but almost hopelessly; and 
a small part of us only would ever have left the field." 

In this expression of opinion, Camp shadowed forth 
the result of the assault in which, two months later, 
he lost his life. 





CHAPTER XII. 

IN THE PETERSBURG TRENCHES. 

OT long after the return of the column 
from New Market Road to Deep Bottom, 
General Foster left the latter point to 
assume command of a division elsewhere, 
and the Third Brigade was again in charge 
of Colonel Plaisted, of the Eleventh Maine. August 
26, this brigade was relieved by the colored troops of 
General Paine, and left Deep Bottom for the Peters- 
burg front, where the Tenth Corps was ordered to 
relieve the Eighteenth Corps. 

" We had a tiresome march," wrote Camp of that 
move. " It is about as fatiguing to ride at a walk for 
ten or fifteen miles as to march the same distance on 
foot. It was cloudy overhead, muddy underneath, 
and, in the pine woods, pitchy dark. 

"We reached the Appomattox about 11. 15 P. M., 
and, after difficulty and delay in finding the road which 
led down to the pontoon, learned, upon reaching it, 
that we should have to wait for the passage of a 

271 



272 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

wagon-train. Meantime the rain came down in tor- 
rents, but we wrapped our rubber coats about us, lay 
down on the muddy ground, and slept soundly. About 
one o'clock the road was clear, and we started again. 
It is a long distance from one bank to the other, the 
bridge crossing several low islands before high ground 
is reached on the farther side. We went but a mile 
or two beyond; the darkness, solidified by blinding 
flashes of lightning, making it impossible to distinguish 
the road. Our bivouac was cheerless enough, though 
a tent-fly, thrown over a couple of rails which leaned 
against a tree, gave us such shelter as few or none 
besides had. 

" Saturday morning was bright and clear, and we 
marched early. The country was very pleasant — 
high, rolling ground, sloping down toward the wind- 
ing Appomattox ; fortifications everywhere ; pleasant 
residences not a few — abandoned, of course — beauti- 
fully shaded by huge old trees, and commanding fine 
views of the river valley. Petersburg was plainly in 
sight, during a part of the march, directly in front of 
us, and, not more than two or three miles distant, its 
streets and houses distinctly to be seen. Henry and 
I wondered if, with a good glass, we couldn't have 
picked out the Bolingbroke House, where we had each 
stopped in passing through the place. 

"About 10 A. M. we reached the position assigned 
us — the deserted camp of a negro regiment. I have 
hardly seen so filthy or repulsive a spot since I have 



A DANGEROUS SPOT. 273 

been in the army — everything in the most shocking 
condition imaginable. The main works were perhaps 
a quarter of a mile in front of us, and on higher 
ground, so that we could see nothing beyond. Parallel 
to them, where we were, a brook ran through a shal- 
low valley. It was this stream that rose so suddenly, 
a few weeks since, as to drown fourteen men of the 
Eighteenth Corps, whose place we had now taken. 
That side of the slope nearest the front was full of 
burrows of all shapes and sizes, some nicely faced with 
logs, some mere rat-holes. One of the best of these 
we made headquarters ; and the men dug and built for 
themselves strong shelters on the level ground in front 
of us. 

" Before the precise spot for our camp had been 
indicated, we halted upon the plain near by, and 
stacked arms for dinner. ' You can't stay there,' said 
an officer to us, ' every one who stops there is killed.' 
The regiment dined in peace, however, and was 
marched off by the senior captain, the field and staff 
waiting to finish a little more at leisure. By and by 
the enemy's artillery opened. No shells came very 
near, and we paid no special attention to them. One, 
bursting some rods distant, called forth a remark ; but 
we had ceased to speak or think of it, when, with a 
fierce whiz, down came a fragment — it must have been 
thrown high in air — and buried itself in the earth about 
six feet from Henry, and precisely where Colonel Otis 
had been sitting a few minutes before. We began to 

18 



274 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

think the place might deserve its reputation ; but the 
firing ceased as suddenly as it had commenced, with 
no more close shots. . . . 

" At dusk, artillery reopened on both sides. Mor- 
tar-shelling at night is a beautiful sight. The burning 
fuse of each projectile marks its course for the whole 
distance of its flight. It rises like a rocket, moving, 
apparently, only half as fast ; sails slowly through the 
sky, sometimes a mile above the earth, at the highest 
point of its enormous curve, and descending, one 
would think at a distance, as gently as a snow-flake ; 
but it strikes the earth with a concussion which shakes 
the ground for many yards on every side, and explodes 
with a report like that of the mortar from which it 
came. One can see in the darkness precisely where 
it is coming ; it seems as if a good ball-player wouldn't 
find it a difficult catch; and there is no need, if a 
bomb-proof is within a few rods, of any one's being 
hit by the shell before explosion ; but the fragments 
fly in all directions, and fly far, striking sometimes, as 
in the case I mentioned, long after it seems as if all 
danger must be over. None of our men were hurt on 
Saturday evening, though there were some narrow 
escapes. The Seventh New Hampshire, a little dis- 
tance to our left, lost one killed and several wounded. 
The man who was killed was sitting near the breast- 
work, watching the shells. One came directly toward 
him ; those who stood near scattered, and called to 
him to hurry away; but he gazed at it as if fascinated 



SHARPSHOOTING IN THE TRENCHES. 2/5 

— moved not an inch. A moment more, and the shell 
tore him to fragments." 

The weeks which the Tenth passed before Peters- 
burg were weeks of seldom intermitted peril. On the 
picket-line, in the trenches, and in camp, there was 
constant danger of death. Rifle-bullets were whizzing 
past or striking near one, wherever he went ; and 
rarely a day passed without a few hours of artillery- 
firing from the enemy. Even when there was a tacit 
truce on the immediate front, sharpshooters at right 
or left kept up their diagonal fire; and, during most of 
the time, active hostilities prevailed along the entire line. 
The position of the Tenth was in front of General 
Meade's headquarters; its picket- duty ranging from 
the opening of the exploded mine under Cemetery 
Hill to the right of the Second Corps line, near the 
Jerusalem Plank Road. 

"Near the right of our line," wrote Camp, of his 
first tour of picket-duty at Petersburg, "was a hollow, 
running from front to rear; and through this, more or 
less, bullets were flying during a large part of the day, 
and all the evening and night. One of our companies 
was stationed beyond this, and its position connected 
with the rest by a long and exceedingly crooked 
covered way. Sometimes for an hour or two there 
would be no firing, and one would be tempted to take 
the short cut aboveground ; but a bullet was very 
apt to whistle by when the experiment was tried ; and 
the only prudent course was to take the long way 



276 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

round, lest the other should prove emphatically a 
short way home. 

" It was evident that rebel sharpshooters were watch- 
ing this place, and that they knew its every crook and 
turn. The passer must move quickly, or his momen- 
tary appearance where a side path branched off and 
left an opening, or where an angle brought him for an 
instant into sight, was the signal for a bullet too well 
aimed to be called a chance shot. Henry and I con- 
vinced ourselves of this before we had been long at 
our new station, and others had the same experience." 

Some of the incidents of the artillery fire he thus 
described : 

"They are shelling us again here in camp this after- 
noon ; making pretty good practice, too, within the 
last few minutes. No one hit yet. A shell struck 
just now in the road, behind a fellow who was carry- 
ing a pail of coffee. It was amusing to see the cool- 
ness with which he slowly turned round and took a 
good look at the spot, then trudged along his way, 
without having spilled a drop of coffee, or been appar- 
ently any more discomposed than if a snowball had 
struck near him." 

And, of another date: 

" In the afternoon, we were more heavily shelled 
than at any time before, since that day at Bermuda 
Hundred ; being compelled to leave our tents and take 
shelter in our bomb-proof. The rebel gunners seemed 
to have our range as accurately as if the ground had 



FACING DEATH ALWAYS. 277 

been measured for target practice. Henry, who was 
visiting the men in their tents, had his regular narrow 
escape, — a shell bursting close to him, and the frag- 
ments striking everywhere, except where he stood. 
The men begin to think he is bomb-proof himself. A 
beautiful ricochet shot struck in the field behind us: 
it could be seen, bounding along in half a dozen suc- 
cessive leaps of twenty or thirty yards each, as dis- 
tinctly as if it had been a cricket-ball. Our mess-tent 
was hit, but not a man in camp struck from first to 
last, wonderfully enough. The Morris Island experi- 
ence of our men is useful to them now; they know 
just when and how to cover." 

But men of the Tenth often were hit. A sharp cry 
at dead of night more than once gave indication that 
some one had been wounded while asleep in his tent; 
and casualties came to be so frequent, that officers and 
men moved about with an ever-present consciousness 
that they might fall the next minute. Frequently, one 
on stepping from his tent would ask his friend to for- 
ward an open letter, to attend to an unfinished busi- 
ness item, or to remember some former request, in 
case he did not come in again ; and every nerve was 
kept on tension by this sense of personal peril, during 
the waking hours, — hardly quieted even in sleep, when 
the patter of bullets gave shape to troubled dreams. 

Pickets were relieved only after nightfall, and there 
were times when no man at the advanced posts, or even 
at the main works, could show himself by daylight 



278 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

save at the imminent risk of his life, so vigilant and 
accurate were the rebel sharpshooters. 

"Just before evening," wrote Camp of one such day, 
"Lieutenant Hickerson was struck in the face by a 
bullet. He had seen the flash of the rebel rifle, and 
stooped long enough, he thought, for the bullet to 
pass; but it was an enormously long range, and he 
lifted his head again just in time to be hit. The ball 
struck the upper part of the cheek-bone, close to the 
eye. Almost spent, it made only a flesh-wound, pain- 
ful, but not dangerous. An inch higher, it would 
have entered the eye, and blinded or killed him. The 
vedettes coming in when relieved at dusk brought with 
them one of their number who had been mortally 
wounded at ten o'clock in the morning. He was still 
living, though his brains were oozing out of a bullet- 
hole through the head. 

"So sharp had been the fire, so positive the cer- 
tainty of being hit, on those advanced posts, with the 
slightest exposure, that it had been impossible to 
move him. None but his companion in the same 
rifle-pit, and those on the next post, to whom he called 
out the information, knew until night that he had been 
hit. It was Henry Lyman, of Company K, one of our 
tried and reliable men. His companion — Bunnell, one 
of the same sort, scout and sharpshooter — would have 
done for him anything that man could do; but it was 
of no use to make an attempt. Think of him spend- 
ing the day in that rifle-pit, with his dying friend, 



PICKET SOCIABILITIES. 279 

helpless, unable to lift his head without bringing cer- 
tain death upon himself! " 

There were hours of sociability between the Peters- 
burg pickets, in the intermissions of firing at one point 
or another. In a cornfield between the lines in front 
of the Third Brigade, they sometimes met for a friendly 
chat, or to barter, or for a game at cards. One after- 
noon, while the Tenth was on picket, after an hour of 
lively shelling and some musketry firing, there was a 
rest from active hostilities. Then a rebel soldier 
showed himself on the parapet of his works, and, 
shaking a newspaper as a sign of truce, sprang over 
into the cornfield. At once a hundred men from 
either side were over their lines and side by side, ex- 
changing papers and coffee and tobacco, and renewing 
old acquaintances, or forming new ones. Old school- 
mates and fellow-townsmen were, in several instances, 
found over against each other. When, after a half- 
hour of this friendly intercourse, fire was opened from 
one of the batteries, over the heads of the cornfield 
party, officers and men hurried back to their lines 
again, and hostilities were active as before. 

"For my own part," wrote Camp of these times of 
truce, " I have an uncomfortable sensation when I'm 
in a situation where my safety depends on the good 
faith and fairness of rebels. Our Morris Island experi- 
ence was one not readily to be forgotten ; and I sha'n't 
be likely to lead them again into any unnecessary 
temptation." 



280 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

Here is an extract from another letter, written when 
no truce existed : 

"I have just been out to watch the sharpshooting. 
There is no longer any truce opposite our position, 
and one cannot safely raise his head above the parapet. 
I watched for some time the shots which our boys 
made at a rebel who had a capital position from which 
to fire, and made good use of it. His head only was 
to be seen, and that seldom. Half a dozen of our 
men would take aim at the aperture where he ap- 
peared; and one, with a field-glass, would give notice 
when to fire. Then the dust would fly all about the 
place, and he wouldn't come in sight again for some 
minutes. When I left the trenches to return here to 
our bomb-proof, he seemed to have left his post ; 
whether hit, or only having come to the conclusion 
that it was too dangerous a place, we couldn't tell. It 
was too long range for accurate shooting with ordinary 
rifles, — some five hundred yards between the main 
works, which, at this point, are widely divergent. 

" The rebels have a few sharpshooters with Whit- 
worth rifles, who are dangerous fellows to be seen by. 
One of our men this morning had his hair lifted by a 
bullet, fired, like many others, through one of the 
apertures of the parapet : another's face was grazed. 
As Colonel Plaisted and I were standing close to the 
parapet, a bullet struck it just in front of us, and so 
near the top as to throw the dirt over us. As I was 
coming up the hill toward our bomb-proof, another — 



IN THE LINE OF FIRE. 28 1 

chance, I think, for I could hardly have been in sight 
— passed before my face so close that I involuntarily 
threw back my head, feeling the wind of it, or fancy- 
ing I did, as it went by. They are constantly whizzing 
by our splinter-proof Our orderly, who occupies a 
smaller one near by, said that he saw three strike ours 
within a few minutes. I presume many are buried in 
it. Down in the ravine, there is a tree in whose trunk 
over two hundred bullet-marks have been counted; 
and there are probably twice as many, if it could be 
carefully examined. Within the last half-hour a rebel 
battery has opened upon one of ours a little to our 
rear, which answers vigorously. We are directly 
under the line of fire, and are in hopes that neither 
side — 

"(Well, they did, just that minute; fired low, our 
own side; struck the earth between themselves and us, 
ricochetting overhead, but a little to the left. Awkward 
experiment! — don't want 'em to try it again. The 
first rebel shot passed very near us, — too low for the 
battery at which it was aimed: they are doing better 
now. Still, if the rebel gunner should depress the 
muzzle of his piece a quarter of an inch, it would 
probably finish us. It is a sixty-four pounder, and 
one of its balls would knock our splinter-proof into a 
cocked hat, and bury us under the ruins. I hear now 
that the same man who had the bullet through his 
hair a little while ago has been hit in the arm ; noth- 
ing very serious, though it will lay him up for a few 



282 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

days. Henry has been down to the Twenty-fourth 
camp to bury a man killed yesterday. I was anxious 
about him, going and returning; for bullets fly thick 
along the whole way ; and just in rear of our bomb- 
proof here, is one of the worst places within a mile. 
Something of a parenthesis I have made of it, haven't 
I?)" 

Of the Sunday night after the news came of Sher- 
man's capture of Atlanta, Camp wrote : 

"We lay down early, and slept quietly until mid- 
night. Then suddenly broke forth such a cannonade 
as we had heard only once before in all our experi- 
ence, — the evening of the attack on Wagner. We 
rose, and looked around : our whole line was lit up 
by the flash of the guns, and the roar was incessant. 
The rebels answered, though with a fire of by no 
means equal intensity ; and the sight was a mag- 
nificent one, — the blazing shells cutting the sky in 
every direction, bursting sometimes at the very sum- 
mit of their curve, and flashing the red glare of their 
explosion on all beneath. Impressive pyrotechny! 
What it all meant we were at a loss to understand. 
There were no signs of an attack by either party ; and 
when, after half an hour or so, the exhibition closed 
without any apparent results, we went back to our 
blankets more mystified than ever. Next day we 
learned that it was a salute for the fall of Atlanta. 
Thirty-six midnight guns from each battery ; and, not 
to waste ammunition, the guns were shotted, and 



A SHOTTED SALUTE. 283 

Petersburg and its fortifications given the benefit of 
them. The whole thing must have been gratifying to 
our friends opposite. During the whole time, the 
bands were playing national airs, — the music, of 
course, adding materially to the effect." 

Of the shotted salute with which the rebels greeted 
the passage of trains over General Grant's railroad 
from City Point to Meade's extreme left, Camp wrote: 

" In the afternoon, we stood for a while watching 
the rebel artillery practice on our railroad train. 
Nearly opposite our camp is a place where the new 
military road toward Warren's position passes in plain 
sight of the rebel works, and within range of rifled 
guns, though nearly a mile to our rear. They fire 
frequently at the cars, and have made some capital 
shots, though never yet hitting them. We can hear 
the bolt hum through the air overhead, and have 
plenty of time to step out of the tent and look toward 
the train before it strikes. Of late, our guns have 
opened on the rebel battery every time a train ap- 
proached; but they can't prevent the one shot which 
comes almost as regularly as the train passes. The 
range is probably a mile and a half; and the shooting 
has been accurate at a moving object, — a pretty dif- 
ficult job." 

In one of Camp's letters from the Petersburg front 
is found almost the only expression of wearisomeness 
in his work which escaped him from the hour he 
entered service until his death. It gives evidence of 



284 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the terrible pressure of the prolonged and bloody 
campaign of 1864, even on the bravest and truest. 

"The activity of this life has intense pleasure," he 
wrote ; " but it has weariness too. The strain of ex- 
citement and of anxiety, the wear and tear of such 
work as ours, begin to tell upon me. Not that I am 
breaking down under it, or ready to abandon the task 
which must be accomplished, or even that I would 
return to such play-day, pleasant soldiering as our 
occupation of New-Berne. But I am beginning to 
long for the end on personal as well as patriotic 
grounds. I used to feel differently, you know. Home 
would seem very attractive to me now, rest very 
pleasant, could I feel that my place was anywhere else 
than here, my work any other than this. Perhaps I 
should be restless and uneasy away from excitement. 
I certainly should while the war lasts ; but, when 
peace comes, I think I shall be ready (if I am alive 
then) for at least a few months of quiet. There was 
none in prison-life, — less even than now ; and the time 
since I last knew what it meant begins to seem long." 

It was soon after the Tenth went to Petersburg that 
Camp received from Governor Buckingham his well- 
deserved commission as major of the regiment. The 
number of men on the rolls of the Tenth being below 
the standard required for three field-officers, there was 
some delay in Camp's muster in; but General Butler, 
being made acquainted with the facts, issued a special 



A WELCOME REST. 285 

order directing his muster, as demanded by the neces- 
sities of the service; and on September 25, being duly 
qualified, he assumed the duties of his new position. 

Saturday afternoon, September 24, brought orders 
to the Tenth Corps to be ready, that night, to be re- 
lieved by the Second Corps, — a portion of which had 
been some time in reserve in the rear of the line at 
the left of the Tenth. Preparations were hastily made ; 
and, at midnight, the troops of the corps were with- 
drawn to the level ground in the rear of General 
Birney's headquarters. There was a halt, and a delay 
of several days ; the time being occupied in drilling, 
and in parades, — a service almost unknown since the 
campaign opened in May. It was with a restful feel- 
ing that the tired troops found themselves out of reach 
of the enemy's guns, and permitted to move about 
without expecting momentarily the hiss of a bullet or 
the whiz of a shell. The rest was needed, in view of 
both what had gone before, and what was so soon to 
come. 







i*S$€:€€# 



CHAPTER XIII. 

LIFE AND DEATH BEFORE RICHMOND. 

[f/|§OON after noon of Wednesday, September 
28, the Tenth Corps was again in motion. 
jS^Sj^JM From its camping-ground before Peters- 
DJlKSiiilD burg it moved hurriedly, yet with the 
tedious slowness inevitable to any long 
column, toward the Appomattox, over the pontoon at 
Broadway Landing, across the Bermuda Hundred Pe- 
ninsula, and to the north bank of the James, from the 
Jones's Neck pontoon to Deep Bottom. 

The Tenth Regiment had commenced its march 
soon after 3 P.M. It was 2.30 A.M. when it halted 
at Deep Bottom; and those of its heavily laden men 
who had not fallen out exhausted by the way dropped, 
footsore and weary, on the wet grass of the familiar 
ground, where, before, they had camped and picketed, 
and stood fire and fought, and buried their dead, and 
from which, a month previous, they had gone out with 
no thought of a return. 

As they lay down, word came to them that they 
286 



BATTLE OF NEW MARKET HEIGHTS. 287 

must move again, in light marching order, at 4 A.M.; 
and to move was to fight, where the enemy held his 
lines as closely as about Deep Bottom. With such an 
announcement, but little of rest was secured in the 
single hour allowed them for sleep; and it required 
true moral courage to lift men up when the line was 
formed in the darkness of the early morning, and to 
carry them forward in the hurried march to the very 
front where so many of their comrades had fallen on 
that remembered Sunday of battle in August. 

But the morning move was less bloody to the Third 
Brigade than was anticipated. The Eighteenth Corps, 
having crossed the river at Varina Landing, made 
a successful advance against the strong works at 
Chaffm's Bluff, while the colored troops of the Tenth 
Corps pushed out beyond the Grover House, driving 
the enemy, and causing him to fall back from before 
the front of Colonel Plaisted's brigade, which advanced 
on the extreme right along the bank of Four Mile 
Creek, until the entire fortifications on and about New 
Market Heights were carried. For several hours, the 
victorious lines pressed steadily on, driving all before 
them. Only Fort Gilmer checked the advance in any 
direction. General Terry's division, including the 
Tenth Regiment, moved, during the afternoon, up 
the Central or Darbytown Road toward Richmond; 
the head of the column reaching a point within three 
miles of the city, — of which the roofs and spires were 
in full view. For a time, it seemed as if the Con- 



288 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

federate capital was to fall into Federal hands without 
further delay ; but the hour for that event had not yet 
arrived. The advance fell back at nightfall to the new 
line established by the Tenth and Eighteenth Corps, 
where intrenching was already going on rapidly. 

The next few days were days of activity and of 
privation. The enemy made several attempts to re- 
take his lost works at Chaffin's Bluff, and to drive back 
General Terry's lines near the New Market Road. 
The troops stood to arms much of the time, and were 
frequently under fire. The officers of the Tenth Regi- 
ment had left all their baggage, even their blankets, at 
Deep Bottom, on Thursday morning ; and the field 
and staff had come forward without their horses. 
Thursday night was cloudy ; but no rain fell. On 
Friday it began to rain severely. Without shelter of 
any kind, and no bed save the soft clay of the traveled 
road, but comfortless sleep was secured during the 
drenching storm of the following night; and Saturday 
morning, when it came, gave only the opportunity to 
rise up, and take the rain perpendicularly instead of 
horizontally. 

Of a bold move by the Tenth, on the afternoon of 
that day, up the New Market Road to Laurel Hill, 
unsupported on either flank, Camp wrote as follows : 

"On Saturday afternoon our regiment was ordered 
out alone to make a diversion in favor of General 
Terry, who, with two brigades, was demonstrating 
upon the rebel lines farther to our right. It was still 



A DELIGHTED PRISONER. 289 

raining, as it had been all day, and the mud was be- 
yond description. All of us footed it. Passing by 
the picket-line, we halted where the road ran through 
thick woods, and threw forward skirmishers. They 
speedily came upon the enemy's vedettes. We heard 
the cry of ' Halt, halt ! ' followed by a dozen shots ; 
and presently a prisoner came back, one of our men 
hurrying him down the road at a double-quick. Two 
others had succeeded, although fired upon, in making 
their escape. The only anxiety our chap seemed to 
feel was to be taken out of the way of any farther 
fighting. He was afraid, perhaps, of being recaptured. 

" Colonel Otis now went forward to the skirmish- 
line. Henry went up to a house near which the cap- 
tured vedette had been posted. I, of course, had to 
remain with the regiment. In the house were some 
poor, sadly frightened women, whom he, as far as 
possible, reassured, and to whom he returned a few 
minutes later with hard-bread (for they said it was 
very difficult to obtain food) ; and afterward the colonel 
sent them some coffee, a luxury to which they had 
been long unaccustomed. The division officer of the 
day [Major Randlett of the Third New Hampshire] 
speaking of a good position near this house, I moved 
the regiment forward, and occupied it; and, Colonel 
Otis soon returning, the skirmish-line was strength- 
ened and still farther advanced. 

" Presently our men reported themselves flanked 
upon the left, and a cross-fire poured upon them. 

19 



29O THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

Sergeant Williams was shot through the small of the 
back, the bullet grazing the spine and inflicting a 
mortal wound. A private of the same name was shot 
through both thighs. These men were brought back 
upon stretchers, attended by Dr. Hart on the spot, and 
sent away to the field-hospital. A wounded rebel, 
left by his comrades in their retreat, was also brought 
in, moaning and groaning most piteously, even when 
treated with all possible kindness, and assured that he 
would be well cared for. Our men had not uttered a 
sound in their pain: it is rare that a wounded man 
does. This one claimed to be a Union man, forced 
against his will into the ranks, attempting to join us 
when he was shot; said that papers in his pocket- 
book would prove it. So Henry opened it for him, 
and there, tucked away in an inner pocket, was a 
little woodcut of the American flag, and a cautiously 

worded statement that was reliable, and might be 

trusted by any friend of the subscriber, signed by one 
whom inquiry showed to be a known friend of our 
Government. Henry went down to General Butler's 
in the evening to see about it ; and, the poor fellow's 
statement proving true, he is well cared for. Hosts 
of such men are fighting us on just such compulsion 
as brought this man to it. 

" Company K was sent out to drive back the enemy 
on our flank: they did it, and we sustained no more 
loss. Reaching a good position for the purpose, and 
having moved forward quite as far as was prudent, 



OLD SOLDIERS GOING HOME. 20,1 

considering that we were entirely without support, 
and that a force of the enemy could be seen pushing 
toward the right, where they could flank us more 
safely than on the left, we halted, and waited for dark ; 
keeping up a continual skirmish-fire with the enemy, 
who occupied the crest of a little slope just in front. 
At dusk, I went up to the line, withdrew it, and, re- 
turning to the reserve, we marched into camp. 

" We had in this affair but one line officer [Lieu- 
tenant Benjamin Wright] with the regiment; the rest 
being- absent, sick, or excused. But our men can't be 
prevented from fighting well when they are once sent 
forward, with orders or without. They know what's 
wanted, and have such an inveterate habit of removing 
anything that stands in the way, that it would be hard 
to break 'em of it. Colonel Plaisted is enthusiastic 
about the regiment, and never fails to speak well of us 
in his reports." 

On Monday, October 3, upwards of one hundred of 
the old men of the Tenth, whose term of service had 
expired, left the regiment for their homes, — several of 
their officers accompanying them. This seriously re- 
duced the battalion, and increased the pressure of duty 
upon the few remaining officers. Camp was on Wednes- 
day division officer of the day, having an oversight 
of the picket-line on either side of the New Market 
Road, and receiving a flag of truce borne by Major 
Wood and other rebel officers, with letters for Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Mulford. 



292 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

On Thursday, Colonel Otis being corps officer of 
the day, Camp was in command of the regiment, which 
was that day paid for four months' service by Major 
Holmes. In the evening, a wayside prayer-meeting 
was held by a blazing camp-fire. Although the day 
had been a busy one, and special duties devolved on 
him, Major Camp was present at that gathering for 
worship; and the pleasant tones of his inspiring voice 
were heard in prayer, as so often before, but as never 
again, in the presence of the regiment. 

Deserters from the enemy had announced an attack 
as contemplated for Friday morning (October 7), and 
arrangements were made to receive it. Yet so many 
announcements of the kind had proved incorrect, that 
few anticipated trouble, even while they faithfully 
obeyed the orders received ; and when, after a night 
of vigilance, the morning came with no disturbance, 
there was many a joke cracked over the last needless 
scare. But about 8 A.M., sharp firing was heard over 
at the extreme right, soon followed by orders to be 
ready to move in heavy marching order. The firing 
increased; artillery and musketry were heard, — all 
in the direction of General Kautz's cavalry position. 
Flying horsemen were seen coming in from the right, 
through the swamps and thickets, in wild disorder. 
The command came to move rapidly down the road 
toward the rear. 

All seemed to indicate a retreat. The camps and 
breastworks were being deserted, and the road was 



SIGNS OF RETREAT. 293 

already thronged with retiring columns of cavalry, 
infantry, and artillery; while ambulances and baggage- 
wagons disputed progress with the mass of moving 
men; and along either side of the way hurried cooks 
with their knapsacks on their backs, and huge coffee- 
kettles swung on poles between them ; invalids limp- 
ing as rapidly as their feeble limbs would bear them; 
officers' servants "toting" heavy loads of personal 
baggage ; surgeons driving their patients before them, 
or starting up those who were already dropping with 
exhaustion ; sutlers' clerks and runners with their 
extra supply of "truck," brought up in view of the 
recent pay-day; and shirks and cowards pushing 
ahead of their regiments, on one plea or another, as 
they fall behind on an advance. 

Officers and men exchanged disturbed, distrustful 
looks, as only on a retreat, when trouble is anticipated, 
and there is chagrin at apparent failure. But no re- 
treat was really contemplated. The right flank of 
Major -General Birney's fortified position, held by 
General Kautz, had been turned, with a considerable 
loss to the latter of men and guns; and the enemy, in 
strong force, was now pressing down to follow up the 
advantage he had gained. General Birney had with- 
drawn troops from the left to enable him to form a 
new line of defense at right angles to his works, and 
thus resist the progress of the enemy. General Terry's 
division had been selected for this duty ; and Colonel 
Plaisted's brigade was merely being sent down the 



294 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

road to the right of the new line. Reaching the Cox 
Farm road, this brigade deployed, and moved for- 
ward en echelon, connecting on the left with Hawley's 
brigade. Camp's description of the battle continues 
from this point. 

" Heavy firing was going on in the direction of the 
place we had left, — principally artillery; while the 
almost continuous roar of musketry nearer, and upon 
our left as we stood, seemed to show that the rebels 
were feeling for the end of our line, — each successive 
attack coming nearer and nearer. When the brigade 
next us became engaged, including the Seventh Con- 
necticut, with its seven-shooting rifles, the crash was be- 
yond anything I had ever heard. We shook our heads 
as we listened : ammunition could hold out but very 
few minutes at that rate; and we knew that, as always, 
nine shots out often must be wasted. Yet, as it after- 
ward proved, that tenth shot did fearful execution. 

"We hadn't long to wait and comment. A rattling 
volley in our own front showed that the skirmishers 
were engaged; and, in a moment more, they came 
hurrying back through the dense pine-woods before 
us, — the rebels close upon them. (These were not 
our own men, who had been left far to the right when 
the main body of the regiment last moved.) There 
was a brief delay while they were gaining a place of 
safety. One poor fellow staggered toward where I 
stood, the blood pouring down his face from a wound 
just received. He was behind the rest; perhaps he 



FLANKED BUT NOT FRIGHTENED. 295 

could not move as fast as they. We would have 
waited longer, but could not. While the bullets of 
the rebel skirmishers flew among us, their main body 
was forming line just behind for the attack, — their feet 
plainly to be seen beneath the low-growing foliage, 
which concealed their bodies as they dressed their 
ranks. It was no time to stop for one man's life, 
whether friend or foe : our line opened fire, and he 
dropped. Probably it was only to avoid as much as 
possible this new danger. I do not think he was hit ; 
but I did not see him again, and, looking for him 
after the fight was over, he was gone. 

"The rebels opened in return, and the bullets flew 
fast. Colonel Otis stood near the right of the line, I 
at the left. We had hardly a hundred men in the 
ranks; and the regiment looked like a single com- 
pany, with a captain and lieutenant to manage it. 
The men needed little in the line of orders or instruc- 
tion, — they knew just what to do, and did it. At the 
first fire, the regiment on our right turned and ran. 
Our men saw it ; knew that their flank was now ex- 
posed, nothing there to hinder the immediate advance 
of the enemy. Nothing is so apt to strike men with 
panic. Our men paid no other attention to it than to 
give a rousing cheer, just to show the enemy that they 
had no thought of giving ground, then turn steadily 
to their work. Each man stood fast. Where a com- 
rade fell, they gave him room to lie, — no more. There 
was no random firing in air, but rapid loading, cool 



296 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

aim, and shots that told. It was good to see such 
fighting. Those whom we met were no raw recruits. 
They fought well. For a while, though unable to ad- 
vance, they stood their ground. Broken once, they 
rallied again at the appeal of their officers, and once 
more tried to move forward through the fire that 
mowed them down. It was of no use : again thrown 
into confusion, they fell back, leaving their dead and 
wounded upon the field. Among the former was a 
captain, said to have been in command of the regi- 
ment; while opposite other parts of our division-line 
lay officers of different ranks among the bodies of 
their men. Surgeons said that they attended as many 
rebel as Union soldiers ; and when it is considered 
how many must have been carried away, or hobbled 
off themselves, the total rebel loss must have been 
very heavy. It is said that among them were two 
generals, — one killed and one wounded. 

"There is no doubt that they had at least two 
divisions, — Field's and Hoke's, — probably more. 
Prisoners reported Lee in person superintending the 
movement. A woman at a house close by speaks of 
meeting him there, and describes his appearance. 
Possibly it was so. Two rebels who gave themselves 
up voluntarily to one of our men just after the fight 
told us that the woods were full of others who were 
anxious to come in, but who feared to attempt it, lest 
they should fall into the hands of the negro troops, 
who, they believed, would give them no quarter. 



THE LAST HOME LETTER. 297 

"Although our loss was not large, the affair was, 
while it lasted, a very brisk one. Our fighting hitherto 
has been almost exclusively skirmishing. It was the 
first time since I have rejoined the regiment that simul- 
taneous fire has been opened by the companies of the 
battalion-line. We have seldom had an opportunity 
to stand and receive an enemy; and even now, we had 
to leave our intrenched position, and meet them with- 
out any advantages of defense. But we are well con- 
tent with even terms, and would ask nothing better 
than to have them always. Now, if we could only 
have a full regiment of men like this handful left to 
us! — there's nothing which we shouldn't feel as if we 
could do. The three New England regiments of our 
brigade are as good men as ever fought. 

" Deserters reported that Lee was coming down 
on us again this morning, this time with three army 
corps ; but he didn't make his appearance. The rumor 
now is that he only postponed operations twenty-four 
hours, and will certainly attack at daylight to-morrow. 
I don't believe, now that we are ready for him, that 
he'll give us a chance to fight him behind works. 
Still, he may find a weak spot somewhere between 
here and Deep Bottom. As the mail doesn't go until 
to-morrow afternoon, perhaps I shall tell you about it 
in a postscript, or somebody else may." 

Camp never finished another home letter. In this, 
he failed to tell of himself as he appeared to others in 
that hour of sharp conflict. Calmly and quietly he 



298 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

moved along the battle-line while the fight raged 
fiercest, saying firm and encouraging words to the 
brave men before him, pointing with his sword in the 
direction whence the enemy's fire was sharpest, and 
enjoining a low and well-aimed return-fire as coolly as 
he would have superintended harmless target-practice. 
Hidden once or twice, in the dense smoke, from the 
friend who watched him with intent and anxious gaze, 
it seemed for a few burdened seconds as if he also had 
fallen; but while the breath of the watcher was stayed, 
and the heart suspended its throbs, again his flashing 
sword was seen through the rifted smoke-cloud, and 
his form stood erect and noble as before. And, when 
the firing ceased, his face showed no flush of excite- 
ment, his voice betrayed no unusual emotion : his only 
impulse was to thank God for victory, and to bless the 
brave boys whose unflinching steadiness had won it. 

The next few days after the battle of October 7 were 
occupied by the troops of Terry's division in finishing 
breastworks along the new front they had so nobly 
defended. On the evening of the following Sabbath, 
Camp attended a preaching service at the regimental 
bivouac. On Tuesday morning, he deposited with 
the commissioners appointed to receive the votes of 
Connecticut soldiers in the field his second vote for 
Abraham Lincoln as President, — a vote which was 
never counted at home, because of his death prior to 
the day of election. 

Soon after noon of Thursday, October 12, orders 



A NEW MOVEMENT. 299 

were received for the regiment to move at once in 
light marching order. At half-past four it left camp, 
and, with the remainder of its brigade, passed out, 
through a sally-port of the works, near the New 
Market Road. The whole of the First Division, tem- 
porarily commanded by General Ames, — General 
Terry being in command of the corps, — was in mo- 
tion. On the broad fields of the Cox Farm there was 
a halt, the three brigades resting in successive lines 
of battle. Rain began to fall, and the afternoon 
proved dreary. General Ames and staff, and the 
brigade commanders, sat or stood on the piazza of 
the plantation house, while regimental and company 
officers gathered in little knots, chattering in the dis- 
mal storm ; and the men lolled on the wet grass, talk- 
ing and laughing as merrily as though they had no 
wish for better quarters. 

Major Camp and his friend joined Colonel Rockwell 
of the Sixth Connecticut; and the three indulged in 
natural conjectures as to the purpose and probable 
results of the new and sudden move. Looking about 
them, they spoke of how many now in careless ease 
were unlikely to see the termination of this advance; 
and in a serious strain they referred to the trials and 
anxieties of the prolonged campaign, while they did 
not forget to exchange cheerful words, and to en- 
courage one another with bright anticipations. After 
an hour's halt, there was a new start. The column 
once more in motion wound its slow way along the 



300 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

hillside, around to the left ; and, to the surprise of all, 
back to the works again, and in through another sally- 
port than that by which it had passed out. The 
troops returned to their several camps. A flag of 
truce coming in from the enemy had suspended the 
move for the time being, and a night of rest was to be 
substituted for one of fatigue and exposure. The 
friends sat writing and talking until past midnight. 
Then, for the last time, they read their evening chap- 
ter, prayed together, and lay down side by side, as so 
often before. 

At 3 A. M., they were up again ; and at four the 
regiment was once more in motion. In the darkness 
of the early morning, the column passed out beyond 
the works, by the Cox Farm, through the woods, 
across the ravine, on to the Johnson Place; thence, 
after a brief halt, to close up the lines, over the Darby- 
town Road, to the extensive plains between that and 
the Charles City Road. There was another halt to 
form for an attack. 

The morning was delightful. It was the opening 
of a bright October day. The air was clear and brac- 
ing. The first rays of the rising sun were reflected 
from the frosted surface of the wide-reaching grassy 
fields, and from the many hued forest-trees beyond, as 
the skirmishers of three brigades deployed, and moved 
in a thin wavy line, extending far to right and left, up 
toward the belt of woods where the enemy's mounted 
vedettes were distinctly seen. General, staff, and regi- 






I 






kM '}{ '*} $/, t 





Earthworks across Darbytown Road near Richmond, Va. 



A BRILLIANT SCENE. 3OI 

mental officers rode hither and thither. Corps, divis- 
ion, and brigade flags were in sight. Lonsr lines of 
infantry, with flashing arms and waving standards, 
were coming up by the flank or advancing in battle 
front. Cavalry, with rattling sabers and fluttering 
camp-colors, clattered along the road, and the brilliant 
guidons of the artillery — still far at the rear — signaled 
the approach of the rumbling batteries. The scene 
was exhilarating and inspiriting ; and no one more 
thoroughly appreciated and heartily enjoyed it than 
young Major Camp as he rode back and forth, con- 
veying orders and bearing messages. 

The first fire of the skirmishers opened. The 
enemy's advanced line was easily pressed back to his 
strongly intrenched position beyond the woods. There 
"his skirmishers were re-enforced, and the progress of 
the attacking party was stayed. For several hours, 
the fighting was brisk between the opposing skirmish- 
lines; the main force halting in line of battle in close 
reserve. Four companies of the Tenth skirmished 
under Lieutenant Linsley; the other six were in re- 
serve, in charge of the three field-officers. The fore- 
noon dragged along slowly. Artillery fire was sharp for 
a time, and the rattle of musketry was incessant. Men 
were killed and wounded near by, as the little group of 
officers of the Tenth sat chatting together; and word 
came frequently that one or another good soldier had 
fallen on the skirmish-line. An occasional narrow 
escape to some of the party, from a flying bullet or 



3<D2 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

shell fragment, would cause a passing remark, or, 
perhaps, raise a laugh. No one expected to be hit 
himself, for he had escaped so many times before. 
Dinner was brought up and eaten under fire. Then 
Camp stretched himself on the ground, and was lulled 
to sleep by the sound of the battle. 

Soon after noon he was started up to lead a party 
of men down the road on a mission from the corps 
commander. While he was away, Colonel Otis re- 
ceived orders to report at once with the remainder of 
his regiment to Colonel Pond, commanding the First 
Brigade, at the extreme right of the division. No 
sooner was the new position reached, than the forma- 
tion of troops was seen to indicate an assault on the 
works in front; and a chill ran over many an old 
soldier's frame. The enemy was known to be strongly 
intrenched; and an advance could be made at this 
point only by a dense thicket of scrub-oaks, and laurels, 
and tangled vines, through which a way could not be 
forced save slowly and step by step. A dashing, 
resistless charge was impossible; and the small force 
ordered forward was not likely to prove any match 
for the now heavily re-enforced lines of the foe. There 
was a disturbed look on the face of every officer, and 
outspoken protests were heard from many. 

When the chaplain saw the condition of affairs, his 
hope and prayer were that his friend would not return 
in season to share the perils of the assault, since he 
could probably in no way affect its result. But, while 



THANKING GOD IN PERIL. 303 

the column waited, Major Camp appeared, wiping 
from his face the perspiration caused by his exertions 
to rejoin his regiment without delay. As he came up, 
the chaplain's face fell with disappointment. Reading 
the look, Camp said quickly and tenderly: 

"Why, what is the matter, Henry? has anything 
happened? " 

" No ; but I'm sorry you've returned in time for 
this assault." 

"Oh! don't say so, my dear fellow; I thank God 
I'm back." 

"But you can do no good, and I'm afraid for you." 

" Well, you wouldn't have the regiment go in with 
me behind, — would you? No, no! In any event, I 
thank God I am here! " 

Then he moved about among his comrades, with a 
bright and cheerful face, like a gleam of sunshine 
through gathering clouds. Never a word of doubt 
or distrust did he express as to the pending move, 
although his opinion was probably the same as that of 
the others as to its inevitable issue. Many near him 
were as regardless of personal danger as he, and would 
go as fearlessly into the thickest of the fray; but few, if 
any, showed such sublimity of moral courage, in meet- 
ing, without a murmur, the responsibilities of such an 
hour. "I don't like this blue talking," he said, aside 
to his friend. "The men see it, and it affects them. 
If we must go, we must; and the true way is to make 
the best of it." 



304 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

The shattered remnant of the Tenth had the right 
of the assaulting column, which was formed in two 
lines of battle. Colonel Otis led the right and front. 
Lieutenant-Colonel Greeley led the right of the second 
line, — the left of which was assigned to Major Camp. 
' May I not as well take the left of the front line, 
Colonel?" Camp asked in his quiet way. "Certainly, 
if you prefer it," was the reply; and he took his place 
accordingly, — not that the advanced position was more 
honorable, nor yet because it was more exposed, but 
from the belief that it gave him a better opportunity 
to lead and encourage the men. As he drew his 
pistol from its case, and thrust it loosely through his 
belt for instant use in the deadly struggle, and un- 
sheathed his sword, he said to his friend, " I don't 
quite like this half-hearted way of fighting. If we 
were ordered to go into that work at all hazards, I 
should know just what to do; but we are told to go 
on as far as those at our left advance, and to fall back 
when they retire. Such orders are perplexing." And 
they were; for the men of the Tenth had never yet 
failed to do the work assigned them, — never yet fallen 
back under the pressure of the enemy. 

The two friends talked of the possibilities of the 
hour, speaking freely of the delightful past and as to 
the probable future. " If we don't meet again here, 
we will hope to meet in heaven," said the chaplain. 
"Yes," replied Camp; "and yet I have been so ab- 
sorbed in this life, that I can hardly realize that there 



A FOREBODING GOOD-BY. 305 

is another life beyond." After a few more words on 
this theme, the friends clasped hands, and Camp said 
warmly, "Good-by, Henry! good-by!" The words 
sent a chill to the other's heart; and, as he moved to 
the right of the line, they rang in his ears as a sound of 
deep and fearful meaning. " Good-by!" that farewell 
had never before been uttered in all the partings of a 
score and a half of battle-fields. It was first appro- 
priate now. 

The signal was given for a start: the men raised 
the charging cry with a tone that indicated rather a 
willingness to obey than a hope of success ; and the 
doomed column struggled forward, through the im- 
peding undergrowth of the dense wood, through the 
crashing sweep of grape and canister, and the fatal 
hiss and hum of flying bullets. Those latest words 
had so impressed the chaplain with the idea that this 
hour was his comrade's last on earth, that he felt 
he must see him yet again, and have another and 
more cheering assurance of his faith than that natural 
expression of inability in the present to fully realize 
the eternal future. He turned once more to the left, 
and pressed on to overtake the major, whom he saw in 
the advance, pushing his way along toward the farther- 
most front of death. Every step was an effort. The 
struggle to reach his friend was almost as the hopeless 
chase in a nightmare dream. Oh for some superhu- 
man arm to remove the intervening thicket before the 
one or the other fell prostrate! At length they were 

20 



306 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

side by side in the deadly race. As the chaplain laid 
his hand on the other's arm, Camp turned with a lov- 
ing look of glad surprise. " You said, Henry, that you 
could not realize you had a home in heaven. You do 
not doubt your Saviour, — do you?" asked the chap- 
lain as they pressed on together. Camp's face lighted 
up inspiringly, all aglow with excitement, and pro- 
foundly expressive in its story of affection, of courage, 
and of faith. It was surely never more fair or bright 
or beautiful than in that hour and place of death, as 
the peerless Christian soldier said, with warmth and 
earnestness, "No, no! dear fellow! I do not doubt. 
I do trust Jesus, fully, wholly." With another good- 
by, the two friends parted. 

The chaplain turned to his work among the many 
wounded and dying. The major struggled on, through 
the thicket, out to the open space before the enemy's 
works; and there, when all at his left had fallen back, 
when only the brave men of the stedfast Tenth at his 
right were yet pressing forward, he stood for a moment 
to re-form the broken line which could not be main- 
tained in the tangled wood. The rebel parapet was 
but a few rods in his front. From the double battle- 
line behind it, the rifles poured forth their ceaseless 
fire of death. His tall and manly form was too dis- 
tinct a target to escape special notice from the foe. 
Waving his sword, he called aloud cheerily, " Come 
on, boys, come on!" then turned to the color-sergeant 
just emerging from the thicket, that he might rally 



THE DEATH-STROKE. 2>°7 

the men on the regimental standard. As he did so, a 
bullet passed through his lungs; and, as he fell on his 
side, he was pierced yet again and again by the thick- 
coming shot. His death was as by the lightning's 
stroke. His eyes scarce turned from their glance at 
the tattered, dear old flag, ere they were closed to 
earth, and opened again beyond the stars and their 
field of blue. 

The few remaining veterans of the Tenth were 
alone, before the enemy's well - defended stronghold. 
They had performed the part assigned them. Had 
the order been to go on at all hazards, they would 
never have turned about, even though no man of their 
number had crowned the bristling parapet in their 
front. But the brigade commander who directed 
their movements had already fallen back with the 
remainder of his troops. Seeing this, Colonel Otis 
and Lieutenant-Colonel Greeley retired in good order 
their little band of now less than fifty men, and reached 
again their starting-point, — having lost more than one- 
half the battalion, dead or wounded, in the fruitless 
charge. Major Camp's body was left where he fell. It 
was in vain that his stricken friend sought to reach and 
recover it. The enemy closely followed up the retiring 
column with a skirmish-line, and held the bloody field, 
with its dead and wounded. This closed the aggres- 
sive movements of the day. General Ames's division 
shortly after recrossed the Darbytown Road, and with- 
drew to the line of works it had left in the morning. 



303 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

Before Camp's body was really cold, the enemy — 
as was afterward learned from the wounded who were 
near him — took from his person his sword and pistol, 
his watch and regatta ring, his money and papers, and 
even stripped him of all his outer garments. The next 
morning, Colonel Rockwell of the Sixth Connecticut, 
accompanied by Chaplain Trumbull and Lieutenant 
Shreve, bore out a flag of truce with a communication 
from Major-General Terry to the commander of the 
Confederate forces on the Darbytown Road, request- 
ing the return of Major Camp's remains. 

The party were halted at the foot of the hill on the 
road beyond the Johnson Place, at a point midway 
between the opposing picket-lines, and there made to 
wait until a reply could be received from the request 
they brought. Captain Semmes of South Carolina, an 
officer of the general's staff, soon responded to the com- 
munication, and stated that the desired remains were 
being exhumed without delay, having been already 
several hours buried. When they were finally borne 
down the road, Captain Semmes expressed his sincere 
regret that the clothing and valuables had been taken 
from the body; and, when the chaplain expressed a 
strong desire for the personal diary of his friend, cour- 
teously promised to seek and recover that, if possible. 
Subsequently, having obtained it by no little search, 
he kindly sent it through the lines, informally, to the 
great satisfaction of the home friends of the fallen 
soldier. 




Spauldim 



CHAPTER XIV. 

MEMORIAL TRIBUTES. 

jT was a sad journey for the chaplain, when 
he went northward with the body of his 
friend, to lay it away in its Hartford rest- 
ing-place. The funeral services there 
were conducted by the Rev. George B. 
the successor of the Rev. Dr. Bushnell in 
the pastorate of the North Congregational Church, 
assisted by the Rev. Dr. Joel Hawes and Chaplain 
Trumbull. 

"The body was borne by the intimate friends and 
college classmates of the dead, from the church, 
through an open line formed by members of the City 
Guard in citizens' dress; and, under the bright Octo- 
ber sky, one of the noblest, truest men that ever lived 
a pure, manly, holy life, or ever died a generous sacri- 
fice to a cause which such deaths sanctify, was laid 
away, together with all that was dear to 'friends and 
sacred home,' except the blessed memory of the 
grandeur of his goodness." 

3°9 



3IO THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

The widespread sorrow which the death of Major 
Camp occasioned, in the army and home circles of his 
admiring comrades or attached friends, found expres- 
sion in many a warm and eloquent tribute to his 
acknowledged ability and worth. 

Colonel John L. Otis, commander of the Tenth 
Connecticut, in reporting the action in which Camp 
fell, said: 

"The memory of Major Henry W. Camp is deserv- 
ing of more than a passing notice. The service has 
never suffered a heavier loss in an officer of his grade. 
Brave and cool in every emergency, of spotless char- 
acter and refined intellectual culture, he was one of 
the brightest ornaments of the volunteer service, — a 
soldier ' without fear and without reproach.' " 

Brigadier-General Hawley wrote of him to a friend : 

"He is deeply mourned by all who knew him, — a 
gentleman, a soldier, and a Christian. He was, indeed, 
a young man of rare excellence and promise." 

In announcing Camp's death, the Hartford Daily 
Post, edited by his classmate, Mr. E. G. Holden, said: 

" Thus has perished one of the noblest young men 
whom this city has ever mourned. He possessed some 
rare characteristics : prominent among them was a 
Christian manliness that impressed itself palpably upon 
every one with whom he came in contact. He had a 
robust, vigorous moral strength, and a keen consci- 
entiousness, ever vigilant against even the shadow of 
wrong. His entrance into the army was the result of 



STRENGTH AND SWEETNESS. 3 I I 

a deliberate conviction of the right and justice of the 
cause to which he consecrated himself. He did not 
wish to pass through this epoch of grand events with- 
out participating in them ; and, governed by the same 
motives throughout, he patiently, sincerely, and bravely 
performed his every duty. And the iron discipline of 
the war wrought in him a still bolder manhood and a 
more marked Christian character. His filial reverence, 
his social kindliness, his firmly outlined integrity, were 
traits for which he was loved, and by which he will 
long be remembered." 

Mr. Charles Dudley Warner, then editor of the 
Hartford Evening Press, said of him appreciatively: 

" He was an unusually fine and accurate scholar, 
with a free, open mind and large capacity. From his 
solid acquirements, his industry, his versatility and 
energy, his happy facility as a writer and impromptu 
speaker, — his friends were justified in expecting great 
things from his maturity. 

" More than almost any one we knew, his character 
was one of mingled strength and sweetness. He was 
thoroughly manly and noble, with the clearest con- 
science, and the highest sense of duty, and, in dis- 
position and manners, most lovely and winning. To 
natural graces of no ordinary sort, refinement and 
amiability, he added the piety of a devout Christian. 
A strong, cultivated intellect, a large, warm heart, a 
gracious, attractive manner, — what he might have 
been to the world we shall never know. We know 



312 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

he was brave and beautiful in death ; and we believe 
that, giving his life for the noblest cause in history, 
he already knows that the sacrifice was not in vain." 

Of Henry Camp's characteristics and qualities as a 
student of law, and of his admirableness as a man, 
Hon. John Hooker, Reporter of the Supreme Court 
of the State of Connecticut, in whose office he was a 
student, had this to say : 

"You desire me to give you some account of our 
lamented friend, Major Camp, as a student of law with 
me. He studied with me from the spring of 1861 till 
the following winter, when he left for the war. Dur- 
ing this time, he frequently came to my house in the 
evening to recite, as it was more convenient to me to 
hear him there. There is little that I can say of him 
in this relation, beyond the fact that he exhibited a 
remarkable facility in the acquisition of the science. 
Of the many students whom I have had in my office, 
I never had one who seemed to comprehend legal 
principles so readily. I certainly found difficulties 
myself in my early study of the law which he did not 
encounter. He seemed to understand at once, not 
merely the refined distinctions of the law, but the rela- 
tions of one principle to another ; and, so far as he 
went, to take in the science in all its proportions. He 
thus manifested, not merely a highly discriminating 
mind, but a generalizing and philosophical one. I 
was so much struck with this, in the more leisurely 
recitations of the evening, when I often extended the 



A SELF-POISED MIND. 313 

instruction beyond the mere lesson into the adjacent 
and related fields of the science, that I repeatedly 
spoke to my family about it after he had left. I am 
sure that, if he had lived, he would have made a very 
superior lawyer. His mind was calm, clear, and self- 
poised, and his judgment sound. He had, I think, in 
a high degree, the judicial faculty, and would have 
ultimately made an able judge. 

" His faculties, naturally superior, had evidently 
been improved by thorough education. He seemed 
to me to have felt, while in college and earlier, the 
value of education; and to have improved his oppor- 
tunities well. He thus came to the study of his pro- 
fession with a mind remarkably disciplined, as well as 
with a rare literary culture. His reading had also 
been systematic and well chosen, so that his mind was 
well furnished, both with thoughts on the most im- 
portant subjects, and with information. 

"When the war broke out, his whole soul became 
enlisted in the cause of the country; and he could not 
bear to fail in his full duty and his full measure of 
sacrifice in her behalf. Still he had no taste for mili- 
tary life. He had been brought up to look upon war 
as one of the great curses of the world; and military 
ambition and displays had always had with him an 
unpleasant association with the wickedness of war. 
He had no misgivings, however, as to the righteous- 
ness of the war which had been forced upon us; and 
prepared himself at once for what might be found to 



314 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

be his duty, by joining the City Guard — a finely or- 
ganized home company — for the purpose of learning 
military drill. There was probably nothing that made 
him hesitate so much, as to joining the army, as the 
distress that he knew it would give to his mother, who 
idolized him, and who had long held, as well as in- 
stilled into him, a horror of all war, as essentially 
unchristian. As the call of duty grew more and more 
emphatic and unequivocal to him, the voice of home, 
coming to him no less tenderly, and falling on no less 
loving ears, yet lost some of its potency; but it was 
not till he had obtained the full yet agonized assent 
of his mother, that he left his home for the field. 

" This completes the particular duty which you had 
assigned to me, of giving a sketch of him as a law 
student. I cannot help, however, expressing to you 
my admiration of him in other respects than his rare 
intellectual powers. He was, physically and morally, 
as nearly perfect as any young man I ever saw. In- 
deed, as a splendid specimen of a physical, intellectual, 
and Christian man, I do not know whom I could place 
by the side of him. While earnest and devoted as a 
Christian, and of a sensitive purity that would have 
adorned a maiden, he had yet nothing of religious 
assumption or obtrusive meekness in his manner. He 
was one of those muscular Christians who could swing 
an almost irresistible arm, and a defiant one, if necessary, 
as well as utter the gentlest words of love. The very 
caviler at religion could not but respect and admire him. 



QUENCHLESS LIFE. 3 I 5 

" I have never seen one more full of life and strength, 
and ready to do battle with hearty vigor for truth and 
right; never one with whom it seemed more incon- 
gruous to associate the idea of early and sudden 
death. Few deaths ever extinguished more of life 
than went out when he died. It is almost impos- 
sible for me to satisfy myself that there is not some 
illusion about it; and that he is not, after all, still 
living. The exuberance of his vital energy seems to 
me to have been an overmatch for any ordinary power 
of death. 

" I last saw him as he was hurrying to the cars, 
the last time he left home, to join his regiment at the 
front. He had been many months in prison at the 
South, and had just been paroled and had reached his 
home. A few days after his return he heard, un- 
officially, that he had been exchanged, and could 
return to active service. He had a furlough for twenty 
days, but a small part of which had passed. Without 
waiting to write, he left his home to hurry on, that he 
might not lose a day in getting to his regiment. I 
happened to be riding with my family through the 
street on which his father lived ; and, as we approached 
the house, Henry came out on his way to the cars. 
On seeing us, he came up to the carriage to bid us 
good-by. We exchanged a few words, and shook 
hands with him, and said: 'God bless you!' and he 
hurried on. I never saw him again. As he left us, 
we all spoke of the remarkable beauty and grandeur 



3 l6 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

that seemed to rest upon him. His face was flushed 
and glowing, and his eye dilated; his form almost 
majestic in its size and elegant proportions; and the 
whole man bore the impress of the nobleness of purity 
and patriotism and self-sacrifice. It was a grand view 
for the last one I was to have of him. It seems to me 
now to be less like an earthly and mere human vision, 
than like that glorified presence which he already 
bears, and which I hope, some day, to see in the 
heavenly world." 

Colonel [afterward General] Harris M. Plaisted, of 
the Eleventh Maine, then in command of the Third 
Brigade of the First Division of the Twenty-fourth 
Army Corps, gave his impressions of Major Camp as 
follows: 

" It was at Drewry's Bluff, May 16, that I first saw 
Major Camp, under very interesting and somewhat 
exciting circumstances. The Army of the James was 
retiring before the victorious enemy. There was- a 
momentary lull in the conflict; and the gallant Tenth, 
having repulsed the onset of the enemy on its front, 
was in the act of taking up a new position, when I saw 
two horsemen abreast, coming through the slashing, 
straight to the front, — yourself and Major (then Adju- 
tant) Camp. I had heard of Adjutant Camp as 'the 
chaplain's friend,' and that he was expected. At a 
glance, I saw that the long-imprisoned adjutant had 
returned. How will this young man accept this state 
of things? thought I. How will he be received? 



A MODEL OF MANHOOD. 317 

The dead of his regiment were lying in the road, — the 
wounded being carried past him to the rear. He took 
no note of the dead or of the wounded; none of the 
gallant boys of his regiment. His eyes were on the 
field, — right, left, and front, taking in the scene; for 
the battle was not over. His face was pale, his lips 
compressed, and his every feature seemed like iron. 
One of the soldiers of the Tenth exclaimed : ' There 
is the adjutant! — Adjutant Camp!' Then the brave 
boys gave at once a shout of recognition, throwing up 
their caps, and cheering. Instantly his features re- 
laxed, his face filled with hot blood, and the iron 
man of the moment before appeared as modest as a 
girl; but when he took off his hat, sat erect in his 
saddle, while the Tenth moved past as it were in 
review, ' the young man ' dwarfed everybody present. 

" I was impressed by Major Camp's bearing on that 
occasion. I felt that he was a power, an embodiment 
of will, force, genius; and that opportunity alone was 
wanting in him for the display of great qualities. He 
gave such assurance of a true soldier, my first impulse 
was to wish for an occasion for him, — one equal to 
the man. They were knightly qualities that showed 
forth themselves in him. 

"Subsequent acquaintance with Major Camp never 
effaced, never diminished, the first impressions of him. 
He ever seemed to me the fittest man for the choicest 
occasion; hence I was chary of exposing him — felt 
that he was not one to be killed in a skirmish. The 



3Io THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

day he fell, this feeling was strong in me. ' I have 
no officer,' said Colonel Otis, 'to send with the skir- 
mishers, unless I send Major Camp.' I felt averse to 
sending him against a thicket where any skulking 
rebel might take away his life. Later in the day, I 
wanted a field officer to take charge of the skirmish- 
line of the brigade detachments of the several regiments, 
which were doing a good deal of fighting, but disliked 
to expose the major, and delayed sending for him on 
that account. But, when the order came to send the 
Tenth to report to Colonel Pond, I immediately sent 
for the major, but he was away. I had placed the 
Tenth in reserve that day, its ranks were so thinned, 
wishing to spare its gallant officers and men ; and that 
very circumstance devoted it to the bloody service which 
I wished to spare it. It was the will of Heaven. 

" After the affair of Drewry's Bluff, I never saw Major 
Camp excited, — never saw him except in repose. In 
all our subsequent engagements with the enemy, he 
was the same quiet, composed soldier he was in camp. 

"October 7, he moved along the battle-line of the 
Tenth among the file-closers, the only commissioned 
officer Colonel Otis had, with perfect coolness; and, 
when the fight was hottest, was as one almost without 
occupation. He seemed a little moved; and I never 
shall forget the light of victory in his eye, as the boys 
of the Tenth gave their shouts for victory. He thought 
nothing would express his sentiments so well, just at 
that time, as 'Hail, Columbia!' from the band. 



DUTY FIRST OF ALL. 319 

"At Petersburg he was detailed by General Terry 
as Acting Assistant Adjutant-General of the brigade. 
The regiment had three field-officers, and he could be 
spared. He received the order as the brigade was in 
line, ready to move across the James, on the eve of 
the battle of New Market Heights. He came to me 
with a most troubled expression of countenance. 
'Colonel,' said he, 'cannot this be changed? I have 
been absent from my regiment so much: I have just 
been promoted, and we are now going into action. It 
will not do for me to be away from my regiment.' 

" He could not rest until he saw the general, and 
received permission to accompany his regiment. 

" Major Camp's modesty, his purity and simplicity 
of character, seemed not to belong to one of his years, 
but rather to the innocence of childhood. Entirely 
unconscious of the powers he possessed, he would 
hardly seek responsibility; yet he was not the man to 
turn from the path of duty to avoid it. The only 
question in his mind would be, 'What is duty?' But, 
with a great responsibility thrown upon him, he would 
have been an inspired man, and equal to any emer- 
gency. For my part, I believe him to have been as 
good a man — as good in head and heart — as was 
George Washington in his youth, or as David when 
he kept his father's sheep or slew Goliath. 

" However contrary to our desires was his early- 
death, we must believe that it was best, and that some 
great good will come of it. May it not be realized in 



320 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

the pious labors of your hands in giving to the young 
men of our country, in his Life, the example of such 
a character ? " 

Thus closes the record of a brief and beautiful life. 
"All of us who were about him," said a college friend, 
"perceived that Henry Camp was a Christian who fol- 
lowed Christ. All things that were true, honest, just, 
pure, lovely, of good report, shone in his walk and 
conversation among us. Not more pleasing was his 
manly beauty to the eye than was his piety to the 
hearts of such as communed with him." "True 
always, and faithful unto death," adds a classmate, 
"the sudden stroke that quenched all our bright hopes 
for his future opened to him a new life of nobler aims 
and higher services. Such a death closes such a life 
with all fitness. The suddenness of heroic death 
rivals the blessedness of translation. No waste of 
energies, no sad decay, but a Christian soul rising to 
heaven while the heart is still intense with the fire of 
purified passion, and the body girt for battle." 



At the commemorative celebration of Yale in July, 
1865, when Camp's Alma Mater honored her soldier 
dead, and welcomed her living heroes of the then clos- 
ing war, the Rev. Dr. Bushnell, in his grand address, 
reserved the story of this young student soldier for 



MASSIVE MAJESTY. 321 

the climax of Yale's glowing record in the war, and 
then said of him : 

" Major Camp I had known from his childhood 
onward, and had watched him with a continually- 
growing expectation to the last. His wondrously fine 
person was a faithful type of his whole character and 
power. His modesty and courage never parted com- 
pany. His almost over-delicate conscience was fitly 
fortified by a strong unsubduable will. He had no 
flash qualities, but was always unfolding in full, round 
harmony with himself. As a man, he scarcely dared 
to think himself a Christian; as a Christian, he was 
never any the less perfectly a man. My impression 
of him is, that I have never known so much of worth, 
and beauty, and truth, and massive majesty, — so much, 
in a word, of all kinds of promise, — embodied in any 
young person. Whatever he might undertake, whether 
to be a poet, or a philosopher, or a statesman, or a 
preacher, or a military commander, or, indeed, an 
athlete, he seemed to have every quality on hand 
necessary to success. And this, I think, is the im- 
pression of him that every reader of his noble story 
will have received. 

"When he fights a college boat-race at Worcester, 
or the sea at Hatteras Inlet, or the enemy at New- 
Berne, or the dreary rigors of a prison, or the impos- 
sible rigors of an escape, it makes little difference 
whether he is successful or not ; everybody sees that 
he ought to be. Finally paroled and released, after 

21 



322 THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 

many long months of confinement, he returns home 
on a short furlough: but hearing, only five days after, 
that he had been exchanged, he tears himself away 
from furlough and friends, and is off in two hours' 
time for his regiment; and he joins them on the field 
of battle, welcomed by the acclamations of the men 
and the hearty cheers of the command. Though he 
has a nature gentle as a woman's, he is yet called the 
Iron Man ; and the iron property was abundantly 
shown again and again, wherever that kind of metal 
was wanted. His regiment, always relied on, is finally 
brought up in two lines to head an assault; and he is 
purposely set on the wing of the second line, that he 
may not be thrown away. Believing that the assault 
must be an utter failure, for that was the opinion of 
all, he still modestly suggested, that he might be put 
upon the forward line! and there he fell, riddled with 
bullets, only not to see the general massacre of the 
men. Oh, it was a dark, sad day that cost the loss of 
such a man! 

' For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, 
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer.' 

" Little does it signify to him, though much to us, 
that his memory should be sanctified by some endur- 
ing record." 

Nor was his memory left unmarked by an "endur- 
ing record." Above his grave, in the beautiful Cedar 



A MATCHLESS KNIGHT. 



323 



Hill Cemetery at Hartford, an elegant monument of 
granite and bronze bears this simple but suggestive 
inscription: 

HENRY WARD CAMP, 

Major of the Tenth Connecticut Volunteers. 

born at hartford, conn., 

Feb. 4, 1839. 

KILLED IN BATTLE, BEFORE RICHMOND, VA., 

Oct. 13, 1864. 

" A true knight: 
Not yet mature, yet matchless." 

Erected by his fellow-citizens of Hartford as a tribute to his 
patriotic services and to his noble Christian character. 

And a life-size portrait of the hero -student was 
given a place of prominence in Alumni Hall at Yale. 




REPRESENTATIVE ESTIMATES 

OF 

THE KNIGHTLY SOLDIER. 



From Horace Bushnell, D.D., LL.D. 

" It is admirably well done. I was a little anxious lest writing so much 
as a lover you might flatter your subject to the sense of some. I do not 
see that you have done it, and I have heard no such criticism. On the 
contrary, with all my very great admiration for Camp, he is a good deal 
raised by the picture you have given. I did not expect so much vigor 
and beauty in his writings. They are all alive with marks of genius. You 
have shown great skill, too, in putting him forward to speak for himself, 
instead of piling encomiums on him. What young man ever dashed off 
the matter of a book about his own experience and action, without letting 
himself down to some kind of nonsense ! On the whole, I come out in 
the impression that our dear Major was the most wonderful young man 
it has ever been my lot to know. Oh, if he could have lived ! But such 
kind of sighs are useless. Let us rather thank God that he has lived." 

From Maj.-Gen. Joshua L. Chamberlain, Governor of Maine. 

" Chaplain Trumbull's labor of love has been beautifully and nobly 
done. The story touches me deeply. I know how to appreciate and 
feel every line of it. When the regret seizes me, for a moment, that such 
a life should not be permitted to reach its full measure of usefulness and 
honor here, I am consoled by the thought that the life thus given to the 
world lives as a lesson and an example of noble Christian manhood, which 
will tell on young men everywhere, and enter into the character of the 
nation itself, and bless the world in ways we cannot see." 

From Hon. WILLIAM A. BUCKINGHAM, Governor of Connecticut. 

" ' The Knightly Soldier ' presents the character of one of the bravest 
and purest Connecticut soldiers in such clear and attractive colors, that I 



have been influenced to distribute a good number of copies, not doubting 
that young men who read them will in consequence appreciate more 
highly a Christian life." 



From Theodore D. Woolsey, D.D., LL.D., President of Yale College. 

" Mr. Camp was a very noble young man while here, of rare honor 
and uprightness. He had just the stuff in him of which the staunchest 
men are made. I watched his course with interest after he left college 
until his too early death. He was a model for courage and conscientious- 
ness; and such a life distributed among young men, and known to them, 
cannot fail to do good." 



From A. P. PEABODY, D.D., LL.D., Preacher to Harvard University, 
and Plummer Professor of Christian Morals. 

" Young Camp's story is intensely interesting, and you have told it 
admirably, with equal skill and effect where you have left him or those 
who knew him best to tell it, and where you have supplied the thread of 
narrative. I hope that the work will have wide circulation among our 
young men of liberal culture, for it presents the very type of character 
which I would have constantly in their view, and which, so far as they 
adopt it for their own, will make them living sacrifices to the cause of 
country, freedom, and humanity, for which so many that have gone but a 
little before them were made dying sacrifices." 



From ANDREW D. WHITE, LL.D., President of Cornell University. 

" It is a beautiful and noble tribute to a beautiful and noble man. 
As a piece of biographical literature, as material for the future history of 
the great revolution through which we have just passed, — and, still more, 
as a work to strengthen us all for good in these great days, it is a con- 
tribution for which you deserve the thanks of every true man. But 
especially it is of value in giving to our young men a better ideal than that 
which is presented them in the great centers of our civilization. In 
these days when successful scoundrelism is paraded before our young men 
until there is danger of their demoralization, it is a good thing indeed to 
show them this soldier-scholar, studying, fighting, dying for his country, — 
and earning a name which shall brighten while that of the successful 
scoundrel shall rot." 



From J. B. ANGELL, D.D., LL.D., President of the University of Ver- 
mont {afterwards President of the University of Michigan). 

"It is one of the finest specimens of a most valuable class of books. 
Religion thus fashioning the beautiful life of a young man, must commend 
itself to all young men who read this sketch of Major Camp. I trust it 
maybe widely circulated. It certainly will be, if all the copies issued are 
so eagerly sought as mine is by my young friends, to whom I have com- 
mended it." 

From Maj.-Gen. Joseph R. Hawley, LL.D. 

" 'The better the man, the better the soldier,' you and I have always 
believed, and Major Camp was one of our best arguments. What might 
he not have become had he been spared to the allotted threescore and 
ten ! Yet it is a magnificently rounded life, crowned by a glorious death ; 
and perhaps, by the aid of this loving yet just memoir, he will teach more 
young men than if he had been fifty years a professor or a preacher." 

From ]ohn S. C. Abbott, D.D. 

" It is not too much to say that it is an exquisite book. It is the story 
of a noble life, most beautifully told. ... I know not when I have seen a 
book which has pleased me so much. It surely must have a wide sale; 
and wherever it goes it will confer great pleasure, and do great good." 

From Leonard Woolsey Bacon, D.D. 

" It is the best book of the sort that I have ever read. Never before 
have I so lived a soldier's life and entered into its marvelous excitements, 
as in following the story of Major Camp. I have hardly known which of 
the two friends most to congratulate on the friendship of the other, — 
whether to count you happy in having such a subject, or him in having 
such a friend for a biographer." 



From The Nation. 

" Whoever reads this life of Henry Camp can hardly fail to have his 
faith in men strengthened, and all his good impulses quickened. There is 
electricity in good and great lives, that makes their contact healthful and in- 
vigorating, and we commend this book to all people who lead little, and 



poor, and doubting lives, as an excellent tonic. The biography is written 
by one who was the closest friend of this ' Knightly Soldier ' in his life, and 
who after his death celebrates his goodness and bravery discreetly and 
well. Indeed, Camp is for the most part suffered to tell his own story, 
and to reveal his own character in the constant extracts from his corre- 
spondence, from the letters to his family and to friends, in which he ex- 
presses himself always with easy and graphic effect, and with an unreserve 
and unconsciousness of great value to the reader. One learns much from 
this book which one cares to know of the feeling of men in battle and the 
dangers of the war, as well as those objective phases of a soldier's life with 
which books more commonly make us acquainted. The hero has nothing 
morbidly introspective in his nature ; but he made that study of himself in 
the experiences of combat, of prison, and of flight, which would naturally 
employ the thoughts of a man of quick intelligence, and he modestly and 
unambitiously noted the result in the familiar letters here given. Much 
that he wrote is now also valuable as a contribution to the history of events 
of which he was part ; but it has chiefly the moral and esthetic uses to 
which we have alluded." 



From the New York Tribune. 

" Among the noble American young men, whose blood has moistened 
the battle-fields of freedom, none have left a more honorable memorial of 
gallant deeds and a pure and beautiful character, than the subject of this 
biography. . . . His conduct as a soldier was the crown and fulfilment of 
his early promise. He exhibited all the graces of manly valor, loyalty, 
and generous impulse. All who knew him in the army deemed him ' the 
bright, consummate flower ' of heroic youth. . . . The intimate and tender 
friendship between Major Camp and the author of the volume kindles the 
details of his life with a glow of emotion ; but leads to no excess of eulo- 
gium, or such highly colored portraiture, as' repel the sympathy of the 
reader. 



From the Boston Daily Advertiser. 

" His biographer is the chaplain of the same regiment, between whom 
and Camp there existed a friendship, romantic, tender, and strong, as 
that of David and Jonathan. He has written a book which, tremulous in 
every line with affection and sorrow, is yet eminently readable, and takes 
its place in the front rank of the many stories of individual heroism to 
which the war has given birth. The style is that of admirable simplicity ; 



the subject so noble that no reader can avoid sharing all the author's en- 
thusiasm ; and the copious extracts from Adjutant Camp's own letters 
from the field are chosen so judiciously as to add a new and peculiar 
charm to the book." 

From the Philadelphia North American. 

" A biography of rare interest,— a story that chronicles the life of an 
ardent young soldier, true to God and his country, who seems to have 
emulated the best models of nobility in all respects. It is but one in a 
thousand of similar biographies, and gives but one exemplification of 
those virtues that have been the salt of the Union ; but it gives them so 
simply and straightforwardly that they will be believed like history. The 
story is well told, and was well worth the telling." 

From the Army and Navy Journal. 

" Next to the immortal martyrs of this war, whose lives, all too short, 
have told comrades and country how best to intertwine the perfect graces 
of scholar, soldier, gentleman, Christian, come those who, with patient, 
loving, modest, self-denying hands, pen a fitting memorial of them. 
This present volume is the record of a true and loyal soul, a ' knightly 
soldier' in deed and in truth. He was an idolized officer of one of the 
most famous and useful regiments in all the volunteer army— one which, 
from personal knowledge and observation of its exploits in some of the 
scenes recorded in this book, we can pronounce to be brave among the 
bravest." 

From Allibone's Dictionary of Authors. 

" An admirable portrait of an admirable man." 



MAR 25 1907 



